Hammer Blows

All the things I cover, that I smother with a blanket,
For fear they will rise up and wound my wilting pride,
My smile is a traitor that fights on the stronger side,
It waves while it stabs me and then forces me to thank it
For getting me to places that I didn’t want to go,
Making me a laughing-stock, pelted with rotten fruit,
Calling for me to make a speech and laughing as I, mute,
Struggle with breath that should be words, rasping like a crow.

I hide them all in darkness: my weak uncertainties,
Faking optimism, positively beaming,
While I seek fire-exit lights, scrabbling, on my knees,
Hoping for cheers that turn out to be screaming.

I can’t say no, and even though I see the pain to come -
The hammer blows of hostile stares – my lips remain numb
And won’t reject the offer of what they all call fun,
My brain sparks warnings and though instinct tells me to run
I’ll nod, and say through gritted teeth that of course I’ll be there,
Ignore my own discomfort - assure myself it impairs
My judgement - makes me blind to the fun that I could share,
Tear down all the warning signs; pretend that I don’t care.

Then, alone, doubts rise again and swallow my intent
And tell me I told them I’d come when what I really meant
Was “keep your fun away from me!” and I start to invent
Excuses and false illnesses and important events
I simply cannot miss; it’s such a shame,
Maybe next time… It becomes a game
I’m forced to play, to track down a way out,
It sounds pathetic, but what it’s about
Is that it’s easier for me to keep up the pretence
Than it is to be a sheep and boldly leap the fence
Between my holding back and their calm letting go,
It’s easier to hurt myself than feel their hammer blows.