What the Body Won't Obey

My eye twitched during the presentation.

Just a small spasm, barely visible,

but I saw it reflected in the black monitor screen—

a tiny muscle in my eyelid contracting

and I couldn't stop it.

I watched the colleague's gaze flick toward it.

Just for a second. The pity arrived so fast.

I kept talking. I didn't touch my face.

I could feel the muscle pulling, releasing, pulling again,

like my own body was trying to get the room's attention,

trying to tell everyone there was something wrong,

something I couldn't control.

The twitch stopped eventually. The presentation ended.

But for those few minutes, I was just the thing

my body was doing, just the involuntary failure

broadcast on a screen, the weakness everyone could see

but no one wanted to acknowledge.

I hate when I'm reduced to what I can't command.