A Cold Stare

Crossing my arms and legs,

Gathering myself in anticipation of my next move.

My guard is certainly up,

In heightened alertness of what you might say, or not say.

I’m cold and nervous.

Frustration binds me in a twisted knot.

Can you read my mind? I wonder.

I can stay in this position for hours,

Or until my muscles start to cramp.

Give me a match. Let me light up a cigarette.

Haze eases into the room.

What was once a glaring bulb,

Now scatters and ricochets into pieces.

I feel a creepy film cover my skin.

Wrapped up in dust and grime,

I tighten my body in the dry air.

I want to scream, but I swallow my revulsion.

Am I trapped in this cruel predicament forever?

I close my eyes, wishing I was somewhere else.

To escape from this stranglehold is my vision.

One drop of moisture is all I ask.