I’m standing right behind you and no one knows but me,
The hallway is crowded but you’re the only thing I see.
I want to let you know something that you won’t want to hear,
I want to lean in close to you and whisper in your ear.
There are words I’ll never say if life just stays the same,
Words kept under lock and key, with only me to blame.
I wish that you will someday say I’m beautiful and wanted,
No one in this hallway knows I’m lost, alone, and haunted.
The boys I like don’t like me back.
What’s that something that I lack?
What is missing, what is wrong,
That leaves me lonely for so long?
Suspense is not being dangled in doubt,
not the feeling of never knowing. Suspense
is when you already know but it doesn’t register.
The time between witnessing horror and seeing horror.
Suspense is waiting for a slap to the face to start hurting, waiting
for a sudden brake and a red car skidding in circles onto the other road
at the intersection to mean something. Suspense is everything moving in slow motion because
your light was green and your head was at peace and when you shatter a piece of glass, the sight comes