It’s the unknown that makes you squirm 

It’s not that you don’t care.

It’s not that you don’t want to hear it. 

It’s not that you don’t want to see it. 

It’s that it makes you uncomfortable.

You don’t know what to do, say, think. So it’s easier to ignore it.

You don’t mean to turn away, to avert your eyes, hide your face. 

You do it before you realise that you are doing it. 

You carry on with what you know. 

What you feel comfortable with. 

What doesn’t confront what is inside of yourself. 

You squirm a little, so you move away. Move on. 

When you’re far enough away, far enough away so the debrises won’t come near you.  

You shoot a look. A quick one. Eyes widen. In that one look, they can see. 

They can understand, that you do not. 

But they know, they know that it’s not your fault. 

And you turn away, turn back, ignore, forget. Try to forget. 

And they sigh. And carry on, as best they can. 

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