You never know when it will happen to you.
You never know who will do it to you.
When it starts, you’re always unsure.
It sticks in your mind for minutes, hours, days, weeks.
A month could go by and you don’t know for sure.
It seems off.
It seems wrong.
It is obvious.
Others may see it.
You may not.
It always starts out small.
Things most wouldn’t notice.
You notice and think nothing of it.
Then it becomes worse.
Next comes the accusations.
You feel like you’re under a microscope.
Everything you do now is scrutinized.
Everything is a test.
It all remains in another’s hands.
It must stop.
Blank and silent.
Nothing exists anymore.
Maybe it does but there is no way of knowing.
Nothing needs to exist anymore.
Images of nothing blur past.
Nothing wants to exist anymore.
Faces blur together.
Words have no meaning.
Sounds ring but don’t come through.
Nothing is comprehensible.
That is all that is desired.
How can you be judged when there is nothing.
Sweep one way, sweep the other.
Bend with the ghost hand.
Twirl a little in delight.
Shiver with a brush.
Play out the soft melody.
Whisper the delight of your world.
Sway to and forth with the ghostly presence.
Clap the small almost silent sound.
Shudder in the cold.
Dance the magical dance.
Youthful innocence plays in the air.
Whirling and twirling with delightful abandon.
Natural delight and freedom at its best.