Sight
Observant people scare me.
I myself am not an observant person,
and so often, I don’t realize that they can see through the walls I’ve put up.
It isn’t that I’m afraid to be judged, that’s not it.
I don’t care what they think of me.
That’s not why I hide.
The reason I built my walls and keep them up
is because my moments of weakness are just that:
a weakness.
I can’t let them catch me with tears on my face
or an ache in my chest.
The fact that they’d see is plenty reason for me to stay hidden.
When a person takes the time to pay attention,
they catch the moments of awfulness that I don’t broadcast.
Those fractured glimpses of vulnerability,
internal struggle obvious within me.
The reason a sharp-eyed person frightens me
is that every once in a while, I suffer damage to the walls I’ve so carefully constructed.
A difficult day or a frustrating subject, and suddenly,
there’s cracks in my shelter all around me.
And if they’re watching, they see them.
They see me, and there’s nothing more terrifying
than being known.