Breathe

Hot fingers sliding in wet palms, through, squeeze, slide through,
hold them steady, hold them still. Breathe in? Out? Nothing to it, just
a bag of dead leaves, cool it. Stop grinding your teeth that way, see
that man looking at you funny? you saw him yeah? He wasn't looking at
me. Yes he was and you saw him didn't you? Want him to guess about the
pot? Course not. Well stop grinding your teeth that way, clenching your
hands that way, the sweat soaking into your shirt that way, dry up,
cool it, just dry up.
He didn't look at me at all. Yeah right he didn't, they're everywhere,
watching people like you. THEY WALK AMONG US. Don't be stupid. They
walk among us? Like aliens or something? Like in Men In Black? 'We are
the Men In Black, (me-en in bla-ack)' Stop that. You want to get that
song in your head? No. So concentrate. That man looked at me again. No
he didn't . Yes he did. It's just because you keep looking at him.
You're making him suspicious. Damn it.
Damn it, another step forwards, the front of the queue looming, sweat
tickling on my forehead, catch it quick. Breathe in and out but it's
not working. ?2000, plane ticket home. Seemed so simple then. Well it's
not simple now. Not simple at all. Half your life in jail is how simple
it is, you're an idiot, idiot, idiot idiot idiot idiot- is my bag open?
Can they see it? Course not. You checked two minutes ago, check again
anyway, turn, feel for zip, hard against my fingers, bag's shut. It was
always shut.
What'd you do that for? All the people, all watching me but pretending
they're not.
Turn around. Go back. Say you couldn't do it. Give back the pot.
Yeah right. Remember his eyes? The knife that played between his
fingers? Don't remember much else. Drunk, weren't you? Stone drunk.
Idiot. But you still remember his eyes burning through the fog. Can't
pay him back, then what? A knife in your guts that's what. Lie there in
the street and nobody'd care. Guts spilling out onto the road, whoops
there goes your intestines- Shut up!
Damn it, nearly at the front. There's the security man. Hope he doesn't
look right into me. Might throw up. Can't have that. Control yourself
you wuss. Just hold your head high. Armpits prickling, want to scratch
but I know I can't. Control yourself! What's a bit of sweat after all?
Just salt water. You can do this.
Breathe in? Out? Keep walking.