Do I make you uncomfortable?

I watch you wince and squirm on the edge of your seat

as though you were being slowly turned inside out

by my words.

Do I make you feel ill at ease?

I watch you cast down your eyes

and nervously scour the floor for something else to focus on

as my voice cascades over you like a tidal wave.

Do I really repel you so?

I witness your frantic internal struggle

to pull yourself above the churning sea, gasping for air,

even as you sit still in that chair feigning a smile, pretending to listen,

yet all the while you’re ever so on edge as you hope and pray for a way out.

Do I make you want to hide?

I watch you as you cringe

at the images swirling in your head

and then shake your head furiously side to side, arms crossed