
That day, he seated me in the very chair
where a woman had once wrestled with her despair.
As I struggled to stay above water,
she engaged herself in a conversation
about her journey of self-discovery.
“Enough with the talk,” I thought to myself,
“Self-discovery lies beyond mere words.”
I wish I had expressed these thoughts to her at that moment.
I passed the interview and returned home.
A few days later, I received a call.
I got the job! Such a thrill!
Over the next two weeks,
I had to complete many forms.
Worried about my references,
but no one even checked them.
Feeling relieved, I confidently walked into the workplace once again.
Returning to the very chair,
the one that speaks of self-discovery,
I was unaware of what the day held in store for me.
In my quest to find myself,
I unlocked a few new doors.
In this uncharted sea, there was nowhere to be found me
among people I couldn't reach out to.
I arrived here intending to serve,
but lacking the brain skills.
I ventured there in the most unfavourable state:
deprived of sleep and my usual routine.
Girls were plentiful, while men remain hidden.
My male mind was on the verge of shutting down,
compelled to read amidst a cacophony of noise
among people I couldn't connect with.
Red spot on my chin didn’t align
with the makeup area right in front of me,
it was not a good sign for a girl like me.
Not skilled in the job yet, hands yearned for help,
no one there to unkink my sad disgrace.
Everyone everywhere, and me with myself,
unhealthy thoughts formed abusive patterns.
After a few hours of this back-and-forth race
I cracked up, crying in front of a man.
No way I was about to come back.
Still, tried to maintain dignity and courtesy around.
On a train, no space to sit, loud noises beneath,
someone spilled out what’s inside of him,
ladies joined, no mercy for me.
I ended up running away as fast as a train.
On the road close to home, the car swarmed in
on the middle line, in front of me, on my green.
He had red, leaving me, a pedestrian, in fear.
The rest of the road home I spent weeping .
After a few days, two cups broke,
the ones with vintage cars.
Won’t be any sales, but what does it mean?
Still scared to cross the road on green.
---
Thank you for reading!
About the Creator
Moon Desert
UK-based
BA in Cultural Studies
Crime Fiction: Love
Poetry: Friend
Psychology: Salvation
Where the wild roses grow full of words...



Comments (1)
Oh that was so long. Nice tolerance.