Stand up in the order
in which you were seated
and walk toward the door
through which you entered:

mostly unafraid because
you remember what’s out there
and handled it well enough 
to survive before you got here,
fearful enough
over what may have changed
since you got here. 

All of that is less chafing
than the single file
they want you to walk
and the silence
they expect you
to maintain as you do. 

Outside is bright, 
only dimly familiar, terrifying;
inside is terrifying too
but out there you can see
what you’re doing.

If the line moved any slower
you’d be so rooted here
you might wither upon leaving
and maybe they’re counting on that,
so push ahead,
push instead.

Push and shove
your way forward. Cut in line,
punch your own ticket
into the light on
the other side. It might be
worse at first, but at least 
it won’t be here.