your desperation is so eloquent.
and i can feel it.
hear the cutlery clinking
and the conversation that drones over the feelings you're having within.
and your mouth doesn't open, and when it does you get surprised and then you say something mediocre, and no one notices how mediocre it is, or say something brilliant and everyone gives you death looks.
then when you leave they are like old photos and there is just the night time. and you're all alone again.