Ask Me
April 24, 2020

ask me how many times they leaned in and said huh? ask me how many times they leaned over to their counterpart and said what did he say? ask me how many times i witnessed the corners of their eyes instantly age from my verbal stress. ask me how many times they tried to leap into this boat with me. ask me how many times they got sea sick from it.

ask me how many times they pondered and processed it like they were decrypting a tribal language. ask me how many times they tried to echo it back to me. ask me how many times they echoed it back to me incorrectly. ask me how many times they had to guess what was spewing out my mouth. ask me how many times they looked for clues in what i was spewing to detangle it.

ask me how many times they looked like they rather eat a poisonous pear. ask me how many times they had to feel what i am saying because they couldn’t make out the taboo from my tongue. ask me how many times they tried to be chiefs and take control of the conversation. ask me how many times they tried to clear up this puddle of chaos.

ask me how many times they ran it back to me so plainly.

ask me how many times they looked at me like i was a weeping, broken-winged hawk. ask me how many times i contaminated their speech. ask me how many times they looked at me like they wanted to run me over with a horse.

ask me how many times my heart banged up against my ribcage. ask me how many times they were seized into the territory of anxiety. ask me how many times my responses took fire and sling-shot into their faces. ask me how many times their pupils enlarged. ask me how many times their thoughts left their heads like a bullet from a musket.

ask me how many times they looked at me like i should inscribe it. ask me how many times they looked like they wished they could hide out in a mound. ask me how many times they looked like they were conjuring up excuses to escape. ask me how many times their hands almost flew up to surrender.

ask me how many times they looked like i couldn’t be from this land. ask me how many times they watched me deteriorate. ask me how many times they broke out feeling frantic like they witnessed a throat get slashed. ask me how many times they leave in grave silence.

as i think about it,

don’t ask me,

it might not be worth it.


Photo by Randy Jacob on Unsplash

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By Simon Perchik