My (very) rational fear of being perceived

Please don't look at me!

I’ve hidden in quiet, desolate corners all my life. Made myself invisible, hollow and quiet. Among the monsters who want to devour me whole, making myself small is the only way to live at all. Devoid of any identity, independence or conviction, I’ve been trying lives on until someone will finally listen. To the shrieks of my pain, to the reassurance that I’m definitely not insane.

I’m all that you want me to be, I’m a mirror of your lies.

Now that I’ve reached the prime age of twenty two, I look back at all these years I’ve wasted trying to mould myself into something new. Scrutinising the way I glance, the way I strut, the way I giggle. Is it that I wont be enough for them or myself that makes me miserable?

So in my good ol’ fashion way of always trying to avoid, I’ve made myself a blank canvas inept of joy. The mirror never lies, but the mind will fester its disease. Infects my mind with poison to see if I dare sleep with ease.

“They’ll never understand me, so why should I lay myself bare, so they can burn me at the stake? So they can laugh at my despair?”

To perceive me means to interpret my soul, to pick it apart as if they know. But they don’t know the sleepless nights, the fears in my mind, the lover that I hide. They don’t know my smothered cries, the broken ties, my unspoken plight. I painted on a façade all those years ago, streaks as hues of orange and indigo. But naturally, I’m coral with a hint of midnight blue. I masked my timid presence with cracking loud jokes, or an obnoxious snort for a soft chuckle. Ironically, I dream of shining yet its my worst fear of all.

So I type this post as a pledge to myself, to be seen wont mean to be scalded, rejected or a road to hell. My fingertips create worlds so reminiscent yet brand new. A hologram of the past, adventures and life as I knew. As I walk this road of discomfort in forcing myself gleam, I invite you into this portal to a world unseen.