That familiar feelingEveryone is sitting behind me.That familiar feeling
The hundreds of eyes,
piercing into the back of my head. I feel the hairs prickle, and the skin turning hot,
and the spasms:
Oh the spasms.
Desperate to free themselves
from my shoulders and arms,
I grit my teeth and I even
shut my eyes: for a moment.
There is just one face in front of me:
and it’s not even looking at me.
Why do I put myself through this?
As if the idea that because there’s just
one face in front of me,
my mind will be duped, into believing
