2pm Meeting at the Cafe

Anxiety at living in a small rubbish town...

2pm Meeting at the Café

Faces, faces,
faces
                   I hate.
Walk past the window
She’s late.
Small town world.
         As they stare
The poison grasps my throat
And I choke.
In this puzzle, I am the shape that does not fit
They watch; hunt me with their eyes, their eyes,
Their laughter, the killer smiles
                   My hand raw from where I tear
At my own body
To escape. Escape From Here.
Small town world.
It’s me they hate.
I’m not sure I can forgive my friend
For being this late.