I held my breath
and pulled at my fingers
nervously willing the seconds to pass
so I could walk out the door and pretend you haven’t insulted my delicate senses.
I chew the inside of my lip
the rusty copper fills my mouth
believing it may be better out than in
and imagining the words I could hurl like spears in your direction.
Then I chastise myself;
a normal person doesn’t think like this.
a normal person doesn’t hold it in.
a normal person wouldn’t do this.
But I am not normal
and it is my extraordinary sensibilities
that drew you to find me in the first place.
You’d do well to remember that after I’m gone.