Young Writers Society

‘Never’

I will never say ‘Hi’ to you
For my lips are sewn shut
to the point where even breathing
is a task.

I will never be able to look you in the eyes
Because doing so intimidates me.
The way you regard me as just
A stranger on the street;
You hurry by and once again
I am reminded of how unimportant I really am.

I will never be able to stand still.
Always mouthing words
Or tracing the sign’s letters with my fingers
But I have to hide it so you don’t think
I have some sort of disorder
And scare you away from me more
When in actuality
I’m scared you’re going to speak to me
And force me to break out of that bubble
That I so desperately try to hide in.

I will never be able to sit comfortably.
My mind always focused on the real world,
Focused on the negatives.
The possibility of a car crash.
Kidnappings.
Any accident you can think of 
Is swarming in my head.

Even now, on this stage,
I am constantly worrying over the possibility of stuttering,
Breaking down,
Being a laughing stock
Because my brain and my paranoia never rests.

I am a prisoner of my mind
I am locked away
I sit back and watch as my body and mind
Refuse to co-ordinate
Even walking in a quiet field
Makes me worry of the possibility
That a bee will sting me
And that I will be allergic to it
And puff up.

I will lose my breath
Like I’m doing so now
Trying my hardest to push onward.
The adrenaline pumping in my veins
Mixing with my fears
Into a contradicting concoction
That leaves me so confused;
Fight or Flight?

I will never be able to speak comfortably on stage.
Even now I am shaking,
Even now I am resisting the urge to break down,
Even now as I try to avoid your individual gazes.
My mother always told me,
“Cyan, imagine them all naked.”
But all that does is fluster me.
It causes me to look away and it makes me want to hide.
To give you all clothing
Because even like that,
I am still the naked one.
I am the one who is exposing myself to you
All of you see me here
And I can feel it.
The analyzing,
The watching, 
The mumbling;
It all seeps into my head and gives me pain

I can’t tell if the voices I’m hearing are real or fake.
But I hear them over and over.
Run
Run
Run
I’m so scared.
I want to listen to those voices.

But I want to make friends.
I want people to look at me and be drawn to me.
Be as charismatic as a politician.
I want to be able to smile.
I want to look into your eyes and show you my genuine happiness
Not my genuine fear.
I want you to see that I’m not angry.
I would rather you be blinded by my braced smile than avoid me for my close-lipped scowl
The scowl that I use to protect myself from hurt
The scowl that stays permanently on my face whether I am seething or not
I want people to take me seriously.
I want to break out of this prison.
But every time I do,
The guard comes out and locks me back up in that cage.

I want to say ‘Hi’ to you.

But I’ll never say ‘Hi’ to you.