Judy

It seeps in quietly
stealthy and unseen.
It whispers wickedly,
gathering up
all the ways I’ve failed
and don’t belong.

“Do you have kids?”
No
“Partner?”
No
“Nieces and nephews?”
No
“A dog?”
No
“Successful career, changing the world?”
No

The gaping silence,
wide like my wounds.
It folds me inwards
flushed and floundering
Makes me want to melt
into the floor.

The rush of shame
all sticky and icky
carries a thousand
judgements in my mind.
Differences marked with highlighter pen
shrink me smaller than my name.
Please let me vanish from this scene.