Casual Hotseats

It’s worse than being stripped bare
Across a busy street
With everyone looking
At the hideous vessel
You call your ‘self.’

It’s worse than being cut up,
All guts and gore
Exposed to the burning wind and
Their curious eyes–
Prying and curious,
But clinical.
Dissociated.

It’s like being forcefully awaked–
With the loudest noise,
Or the coldest wind,
Both in shock and wonder,
Wordless,
Breathless.

It’s like being stared down
Right to the deepest of your soul
Exposing the demented you,
The shattered, disfigured you:
All for their curiosity,
For entertainment,
For fun.
To pass time.

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4 thoughts on “Casual Hotseats

    • Andy says:

      What do you mean “the same”? That’s kinda interesting.

      On the outdside, I am calm and composed, but on the inside, hell I running around my mind. I’m never good with hotseats :v

      • Alex says:

        I used to try and ride two horses at the same time, it didn’t work out. I chose to stick with one and live with it. No matter what I do I must stay the same.

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