By the time I notice, it’s a second too late.

My eyes turn to mirrors, and my body turns to stone.

The ticking of the clock stops,

and the rush of I’m sorrys clog my throat.

The chorus of echoes suffocates us both,

and now you look at me the way they all do

                               (And worst of all, I can do nothing but watch)

Yet before I am even able to refill my lungs,

you approach me with the same old smile,

all traces of darkness in your eyes gone.

And ironically, I am the one that flinch at your touch.

And I am the one that cries as you tell me it’s ok.

And I am the one that furiously shake my head saying it really isn’t.