you ever felt all their eyes on the back of your neck?
the red creeping up through your cheeks, burning your forehead and the tips of your ears
as one person screeched at you, stinging, wasp-like, with every word
and everyone else stopped dead in their tracks
--and listened
and then the empty silence
following
where you feel as though you would like to melt
like the wicked witch of the west
and then, you, staring at the floor, humbled, tears burning a path down your flaring cheeks
sitting
waiting
wishing
that everyone would go away and leave you here to be
or that one person would reach their cool hand and slide it through your tear-wet fingers
but no one ever does
you just sit there, deflated, hair-rumpled and mascara smeared
red like a lobster
and angry too
though defenseless and weak to do anything about it
but with new ferocity
you stumble out
high-headed
hair-rumpled
mascara smeared
going to triumph soon
but for just a few more minutes
you need to wallow in your woe and misery