Will I?

Will I break?

Trying hard not to,
under the weight
of a folded napkin
tatooed ni blue
scratching the symbols
forming small words.

Will I fall?

Trying hard not to,
against the hurricane
of whispered words
read out to me,
the sonic blast
of barely heard
lips and tongue.

Will I burn?

Trying hard not to,
while fire and acid
in piercing eyes
and napkin message
engulf the sphere
that is my space.

Will I cry?

Trying hard to,
but all my trying to Not
is still in the way.