Empty

whispers all around me but no one has said a word. I stand up shaking, crossing the room with my head down, fearful thoughts fill up my head while the silence is killing me. I'm being poked and prodded yet no one has made a move, even though I'm still getting bruised. I've reached my destination but now I must turn around and go back. I rush as my pace quickens, I'm almost in its claws, but I made it, sit down while I hear the applause. all I wish is to crawl into a vast oblivion, but instead it look down at my arm. just one scratch won't hurt a thing. Maybe one more, it won't do a thing. But by now my arm is a canvas of scratches, I feel relief, but no one has noticed a thing.