With out looking
I can see you next to me.
I can feel you, smell you, hear you, and taste you.
I sit here, surrounded by you,
And I realize that you...don't..see..me.Your eyes point at me, and see straight through.
Do you know me? You think this,and you speak this, and you spout this to all that have ears to ignore you.
You don't.
You know my facade.
My wall.
And I look into your eyes, deeper,
And deeper....fathoms into you. seeing your very soul
and beyond...
I realize this is all you will ever see in me.
You'll never know me, really me.
it's sadly funny how...aware..of you I am.
I know all of your nuances, your quirks, your drives......
...and you barely know my face.
I laugh until I cry when I realize just how badly the joke has been turned on me.
You don't know my real face.
You know skin.
And pigment.
Hair color; the shade my iris is. You know flesh.
You know the shell that encases me.
But nothing else.
If somehow..I could rip this face off...show you who I really am...you 'd never know me.
Maybe you could never know me...
My complexities you're oblivious to,
And my desires you can never grasp.
I am so much more than I seem.
And as I sit here, cocooned in you,
My realities are that I'm becoming so much less. I'm alone in me.
On this surface level that really doesn't count,
I'm that laughing, joking, smiling thing that you know.
But on the inside of me...where my soul and my lunacy entwine...
I sit alone, on a cliff; the edge of my reason.
On one side, there you are.
Immersed in your own oblivion.
And on the other is my deep, obsidion madness.
And of course, unknown to you, as usual, you're pushing me into the sweet insanity.
Simply because you don't see me.
I am more than your view.
I have answers to questions, and you don't think to look here for them.
You look there. Always..there.
So be it.
You'll simply loose what little of me you once had.
I will become, to you, nothing more than my diguise
My costume to fool the world, and the fools in the world.
Sitting next to me, you flash me one of your careless smiles.
Your irresponsibilities with them,
And my stupidity towards them, have allowed a large, festering wound to open it's self, gorily, in my heart.
The delirium beckons.
I am closer now.
It offers me the warm embraces that I am otherwise denied.
Hurts within me grow deeper, and bleed out rage.
Hot, fiery...and cold to the touch.
The frozen fire incinerates everything around it.
With idle hands, and hatred bleeding from me like water,
I wonder which will destroy me first.
your blindness, or my fury.
Your carelessness, or my idiotic despair.
Go.
Follow your foolish, unseeing impulses.
I don't want you anymore. Don't
Want
You.
Do I?
I don't care any more.
Maybe I'm stronger than I think.
This isn't about love.
Or lust.
Or even caring.
This is about being conscience of me
Knowing I'm here.
All of me.
It doesn't matter now.
I'm gone, and you
Never
Even
Knew
I
Was
Here.

Copyright to Stacy Parker, 1998

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