D’READ’

My hackles rise up
My skin feels hot
Your mouth moves
But my ears can’t capture
Your drowning symphony.
My skin prickles
My eyes go downward
I shrink
Because if I close my eyes
You can’t see me right?
I may be 20 year old
But to this lie I’m still sold
And I’m a ready buyer
Of stupidity, I call my anticipated imagination.
Because fooling my head
Helps my lungs not collapse
And take a deep breath
Till the oxygen fills and takes up space
Blowing away this self created dread
And sounds return and your words make sense
I smile back at you, nodding with my head.