The Impression

 

I walked with barely placed posture. Disguising my unrelenting anxiety. 

I spoke through loud chaos. Sealing the quiet thinker beneath.

I touched with what hoped was well placed eager. Hiding trembling hands from judging faces.

I watched with absolute observation; maybe uneasy stares.

Oh the joys of teenage years. 

Fear disguised by popularity. Loneliness encouraged by voices to which should hold no power. Devastation experienced from the final touch. 

I hid racing thoughts behind garage doors I named time. It was over just as quick as it started. But the impression stays. It always stays.

Images from: https://share.google/AThV6fxWobNyuYXWK