It is often that I do not care,
but that night presented a grim picture,
when assumptions were apprehended,
and distastes were spelled out.
While I bore the brunt of the animosity,
and I was slightly shriveled,
at how clear misunderstandings can be.
I smiled, and sobbed.
Clear, gurgled sobs.
Presented as the picture of abhorrence,
I chose to stay mum.
And as I question the unfairness of it all,
the words that you so unleashed,
come back to me, like a gust of wind would,
and the sobs choose to appear,
and I'm left weak and insecure.