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Can you see me?
I mean, truly see me?
Not just the shell I put on. The mask I wear endlessly over my scarred and self inflected wounds? Can you see past the troubled facade, the hidden lies.
I look in the mirror and even I can't see what is standing before it, in the dark, hidden from the cameras.
It is not because I have discovered some secret to physically hide me. I know of no method to make me unseen to human eyes. Yet that is exactly the result I am getting.
I go through familiar motions, known rutines, yet no one notices but me.
I must admit it is getting rather dull and frustrating to be standing before a crowd of masses, and to know that no one but maybe my shadow, can tell I'm there. Do you undertand maybe?
Could reach out for my hand and touch the marks on my wrists, and arms, and shoulders, and neck and lips?
If I wanted, could you hold me? Love me, feel the raised bumps on my body from your caress? Could you whisper in my small ear of what I mean?
Can you see me?
I feel as if I am hidden. I feel like the only thing keeping me from screaming and yelling is that fact that no one will hear, no one will noticed my outburst of bottled emotions. Not even the wind will be bothered by my display of human fear.
I can see you, see you all. I can feel you, hear you, understand you.
Why am I so different?
Why can I feel the emotions that radiate of you like a plague? Why can't I fit to your carfully molded ways and figures? I know there's an equation out there waiting to contain me. I know that there has to be some path to follow, a path made to show my footsteps.
But so far none of my searching has revealed it.
I guess I have always known how different I am, how utterly alone in this world I am. And yet, until now, I have never seemed to really care. I have never really mind the odd looks and different faces that great me day after day. I can understand now why I got those greatings. But yet it still seems unfair.
I know that there must be people out there like me. People who long to be heard. People who long to remove the suffocating masks they wear. The masks that all people who are different seem to be required to wear. But no matter of persuasion thus far has been able to convince me that removing my mask would somehow be benificial to me. I can see clearly all the ways that it would hurt and cause more marks to mark my skin. So I wonder, why do the lies so easily effect me?
Why do I listen to your poisoning plague of misery and woe? Is it for my own personal torture that I inflect just to feel alive? To I let you sneer and laugh to feel that maybe I am seen?
I know this is not the way to go.
I know that somewhere there is an answer to my invisible life.
But until I can find it, until somehow I can step into the light and once again see my reflection in the mirror, I will stay safely behind my mask. I will not conform.
Okay, maybe a little.
(gasp)
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Posted by heartbrokendreamer on 2007-11-07 02:40:44 | Rating: | Views: 78
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Wow, that is powerful.
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Posted by bookgirl
on 2007-11-07 11:04:21
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