Sometimes I hear voices…sometimes I see faces…

There’s always that spark of recognition…followed by that thrill of fear…

What is it that makes me fear my own?

What is it that makes me fear my blood?

Is it that ruthlessness in their eyes, when they judge me?

Is it that tightness around their mouth, when they don’t like what they see?

Where is that warmth I yearn for?

Where is that safety I crave for?

I wish not, for the sky or the stars, but for the acceptance of those I call mine in my mind.

Where are my friends when I need them?

Where is my family when I cry?
Where do I go when I’m scared when home is what scares me?

Where do I hide from the eyes that follow me into my dreams?

Is it their judgment that I await? Or has the sentence already been passed?

I know not, I fear…I fear those I ought not to fear
I run away from those I ought not to run away from…

I hide from those I ought not to hide from…

I mix with the crowd and hope to vanish…I wish to pass unnoticed to all that care to notice

I hood my head, mask my face…but what can I say, I still pull the trace…

For what do I know that they do not? For what do I do, that they cannot?

They know my inception; they know my end; they know my secrets; they know my farce;

They know me better than I know myself…

I hold my thoughts near…let them not go…

I hold them tight…and let them lead through…

Every once in a while, I turn around; I check for the threads that seem to thread through my thoughts…

I wonder in my sleep can they read me? Can they smell the betrayal and trace it to me?

Do they know that I fear them, when fear I ought not to?

Do they realize I carry their weight all the time, through and through?

Make it go away, far away, I pray every night…

But then, I wake up the next morning and my shadow is still intact…



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