You’re always in the room,
never in the plain sight.
I see you hiding behind the peripheral vision
in the corner of my eyes,
where yesterdays mixes with todays,
where lines of the worlds fade,
and you stand with disapproving silence
at my childish ways,
ungracefulness, wrinkles, greys,…
judging anything that I do,
no matter what I do
to please.
I carry on the facade
as if I don’t see you
frowning, shaking your head,
in every moment of my life,
wake and dreams alike…
The storm is long gone
leaving behind in rubbles
my life.
I have picked up pieces
and started over,
rebuilding the haven for my heart.
.
My walls are stronger.
Doors shut tighter.
Built no windows
to keep love out.
Let the people whisper,
let the friends knock,
no one crosses the threshold.
I leave my hearth stone-cold.
.
I’m a fortress–I’m cold.
I’m safe from hope.
You see me!
I try to hide
the black shadows beneath my eyes
behind layers and layers of masks–
the poker face;
the impersonal nod;
the practical discussion
of returning belongings;
the frown;
the anger;
the layers and layers of accusations;
the pointing finger;
the clenched fists;
the huffed walking out–
the many masks I use to hide
the pain behind my eyes
that rakes my heart and questions my being,
bridled losely by my need to survive…
.
But you see me through the facade
and give that smug smile
that shows you know how well you’ve hurt me
and you’re fine with the price…
Short Stories | Fish-eye Perspective 