Quiet
Tables
By:
Rodolfo Perez
I
sit alone.
Alone
at a quiet table, against my will.
There
is always a sign telling me there should be no talking,
But
that is hardly ever the case.
I
keep my life filled with people who find themselves
Interesting.
But
every once in a while there is a case like the one I am partaking in at this
moment.
The
quiet air swells, and leaves me struggling
To
breathe
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Over
and over and over.
My
mind begins to wander.
I
think of idiotic plans.
Plans
to win over the people I struggle to keep close in my life,
But
with every thought and inconsiderate word
I
drift.
Further.
Further.
Into
the empty space in my head
Only
to blanket myself,
In
the false confidence, and fatty compartments,
That
are my hopes for a normal life.
P.E.N.T.C.I.
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