The road I’ve travelled

He makes a suggestion to me. Then she does. Then they all pile on. I want to say “fuck you” but instead I say “yea” and when this encourages them I say “yes, I am aware” and when they continue I stare down at the table blankly and part of me disappears.

Well, gee, do they think I’ve never heard that advice before. Do they think I am not harder on myself than them. I return to my office. Go to the bathroom. Run the scissors under the scolding hot water. Back to my office. A thin slice, just enough to bleed, and relief comes. It will heal no matter what they say. And then I wonder if they would ask a cripple to run faster, to jump higher, to pirouette like a ballerina.

And I put my headphones on and turn up the music load and cover my head with my hoodie and i rock and i vibe. shelled up, nice and safe, ready to face the hostile world which is my reflection in them.