Stop Talking

My hands

Come together

And I draw in the breath through my teeth

Your curt shots

Sarcastic remarks

Come so often

They're never sincere

Darker amusement sets in

That's the problem

You're saying something and my eyes

Open wider

And we grin and we stare at the floor

Your jokes missed

Your hands grow to fists

And your lips purse

Expecting the worst

With every word

That's how it started

That's the problem

And after we're done

I can still feel your eyes on my forehead

And after we're done

I can still feel the pain in my free time