Words

The pavement’s not wide enough for three of us
I walk ahead
The dog pulls me this way and that
sniffing out those who came before

I catch a few words of the conversation
and try to join in
saying the first thing that comes to mind
but it doesn’t land quite right

“What makes you say that?”

Put on the spot, I scrabble around for words
better words
the right words

I manage only a jumble of faltering, inadequate thoughts

They stride ahead, eyes flashing with disappointment
I’ve spoilt the conversation

unwittingly

I lag behind 
replaying the words in my head
trying to figure out what I got wrong

again

Rejection, the physical pain in my chest
tightness in my skull
weariness in my bones

The words are taking up too much space
I let them tumble onto the page
taking some of the emotions with them

I gather the mask back around me
fasten it a little tighter
and carry on with my day

— Lisa Kerr