Having To React Poem by Delilah Miller

Let's be honest.
And I mean honest,
the kind you choke when saying
but you say it,
maybe even shout it;
there's a whoosh sound,
a cold feeling
that runs through your limbs
and you feel the word 'bright'
like you've spat orange paint on a pink purple sunset.

Let's be two-colored-checkered honest
like you've cleared the chess pieces
right off your opponent's face.
Honestly, I've written to write you off,
or cover it up,
and there's a game we've played
to see who survives longest
by keeping his or her mouth shut.

Forgive me,
or don't,
if I want to see the way you look at me
when you look at me like you've swallowed
something you shouldn't have.
One night, you did, so I wrapped your hand
slowly in mine.
Your face disappeared!
Your eyes actually looked trustworthy
and decisive.

But you're not; I'm just fixated
and the toothpaste is foaming out of your mouth
like past and future lies coated on your tongue.
I'm just stunned
(maybe it's meant to distract)
by all the ways you find
to keep from having to react.