Nervous Tension Poem by Uriah Hamilton

At a summer party
acting amiable but secretly uneasy,
almost certain of a misstep
and the ever present real possibility
of self-character-assassination,
I wait for the sun to set in order
to follow a star across town
and away from here.

I've never had a poker face,
I always wear what's left of my heart
upon my sleeve,
I'm ill-disguised in apprehension,
I'm always afraid I might compliment
a sociopath or a politician
and insult a sweet and gentle working girl.

Have you ever been in a small circle of friends
and a larger circle of her acquaintances?
Did she give you advance notice she would declare
a momentous decision like to marry you or slit your throat?
How does one prepare equally for gratitude
or graciousness beneath guillotine skies?

I'll have to remember her office building
parking lot eyes as I replay the scenes
leading to my demise.
Treachery, your name is Existence.