They Don't Know Poem by Edna Greenway

The gossiping grows, louder and louder,
Until I can't take it
Everyone's talking, talking to me
They don't know
They don't know how every word that escapes them
Rings through my brain
Like a sharp blade of worry and anguish
Was that a snide comment?
Hidden in innocence?
Or was it simply innocence?
How do you tell?
I wait, wait for the truth,
Will it strangle me in my sleep,
Or gently stroke my face?
Will it be the cause of spite,
Or be the cause of forgiveness?
Should I bypass it,
Or take it seriously?
How was it meant?
They don't know what a small comment can mean
They don't know
They don't know