Stranger on the train
I sit,
in stone cold stillness.
Even my breath seems to stay within the invisible bubble I have created around me.
My hands,
they fold neatly on top of my thighs,
which are pressed together so tightly they have become one.
I am breathing,
but my breaths are short and stiff
Labour breaths minus the noise.
And the labour.
My eyes.
Focused dead ahead.
Unwavering. Un-easy.
I have judged you.
We all have judged you.
No not YOU
The exterior of you.
From the moment you walked through those sliding doors,
you feel it too.
You sit on the edge of the seat.
You try to make the invisible bubble around you,
stop the people from staring,
from grimacing,
from gratifying themselves that they
are not sitting beside you.
You get off at the next stop.
My bubble is broken.
But so is yours.