Fake

Embarrassing.

The hot rush of blood up into your cheeks

Your face burning red with shame

The cold stares of eyes

All around you.

And the whispers.

The hushed voices that don’t want you to hear

And yet you do.

You do and you shrink down into your seat

With the whispers running over your head

Beating you down with every

Taunt and smirk passed around.

You want to die.

You want to die, and make them feel bad for

Teasing you.

But you can’t die, because

That would make them right.

That would make them right in their

Accusation that you are

Weak.

So you sit up,

Swallow,

Stand,

And smile,

Hoping that your

Porcelain façade will hide

The tears in

Your eyes.