That Look

If there is anything I fear more than an end to my immediate existence, it is the way you look at me right now. It's as if I was candy yesterday and now I'm the baby lizard that fell into the fruit juice somebody nearly drank.

I'm reduced to asking the eternal question-- "Now what'd I do?" And I know it's not what I did: just what I think, how I think and maybe who I am. And as usual, I am neither quick nor wise enough to do or say the things that will make it alright.

Please forgive me for being dumb and male.