I wrote this on the way to work a few days ago.
You drive me to distraction. There are many ways to get there, and I seem to know them all. I run there to hide from you. There are many places to hide, and any will do. I cannot bear to face you and all that you have to tell me. Monsters from past and present lurk around every corner, but if I ignore them, maybe they will go away. You know them all by name. You and your acquaintances mock me. No one who takes exception to your words is to be taken seriously. The dark and terrible truth must be known. Sometimes you corner me. For the moment I can find no place to hide. Your accusations fly like poisoned arrows, and I can only hide my face in shame. I crawl away, a little closer to the end I long for, finding my way to distraction again. I cannot stand to look at you; you who are nothing more than me.