the point is

you didn't want to talk to me

when you shouted across the room

cramming words into a sentence

in a style too awkward for you.

you raised your voice

not for me to hear

because it was quite clear

we'd said our goodbyes

just moments before.

i'd turned my body to the exit

and had started walking

down and out

when i heard my name.

it sounded quite urgent.

the sound came from your mouth

your throat that had tightened up,

pressured by your frozen eyes,

pushed by your stomach,

your violent heart pounding on

its neighbors

and your body sandwiched

between your movements

took you nowhere.

word vomit.

my name was word vomit.

your face avoided that direction

and naturally, the only other direction

was the one i'd begun to walk in.

so as you turned away

your frozen eyes stuck on me

and you not knowing what to say

said my name

so that you would not be alone

in the middle of the hall.

a human shield

to cover your sight

and disconnect the tension;

but tension is not light

and i do not make you

invisible.

you revealed yourself

in truth, in nature,

as an aged infant

stripped of parents

and money and clothes.

you'd make yourself lonely

you'd breathe dead air

you'd hollow your chest

until you think you're sick.

we all make ourselves sick

and i blame you not

for deathly symptoms

but for your ignorance

of this widespread problem.

the point is

i'm annoyed

that my name

(that i)

was word vomit.