I sit here and I can hear you talking to me
but I cannot hear what you
are saying.
I see your mouth move
and the words come out
but they are
nothing to me, they mean nothing.
All that I hear
are the voices that echo
in my mind,
my own thoughts.
Some people say that I
think too much, that I never stop.
That, I would
agree, but I can't stop.
The voices won't stop.
The more that I try to ignore
them
the louder they seem to get;
the more dominant they seem to get.
I look in the mirror but unlike you
I see two faces shining back at me.
I
see the me that I am
and the me that everyone else sees.
They are not the
same person,
and that is why the voices come.
If only I could be the person
that I am,
the person that I trap inside.
Then maybe I would find
happiness.
Maybe I would find inner peace.
I close my eyes and
enter a place that I know all to well.
A place where
I can hide from everyone
and be the person that I am inside.
I found this
place a few years ago
and it has become
the most important part of my life
now.
It has become as much a part of my life now
as the eyes on my face;
as
the food that I eat.
For without it
I would wither away and die inside.
The voices seem to come
more frequent these days.
They are always
speaking to me.
Telling me things about myself,
about others,
about life and
death.
Things that I feel are true.
But still they frighten me at times.
They tell me who I am,
what I am, and who I am to become.
They tell me the
story of my life,
of my reality.
They promise that if I listen to them
that they will make all the pain go
away,
that they will protect me in a sense.
Though I know if I listen to
them completely
that they will bring pain to those I love.
Can they
understand the person
that I am to be?
Can they look upon my true face
and
not scream?
Not runaway?
What does it matter now,
they walk away even when
the mask is on.
They tell me that they understand me,
that they know what I
am going through,
but do they really?
How could they?
I thought that I found that person once.
The person that knew who I was
inside
and loved me anyway.
The person that I loved.
They too walked away in
the end.
They too brought me pain.
More pain than my heart had ever seen
before.
But in turn they brought me strength,
power in a sense.
They gave me the
pain
to see life for what it is;
for what it is meant to be.
Now here I am,
I
am at a standstill in my life.
I can't go back
but what will it mean when I
go forward?
Who will I be in the eyes of others?
Will they finally see me
for what I am?
Or will they place a mask
on my face in their eyes?
I guess
the only way to know
is to wait and see.
Penned by
~ Donna Flynn ~
