Surveillance
Words don’t hurt me like they used to
they bounce off me gently, skip lightly along my surface,
they cease to provoke me, anger me and upset me
I’m no longer a public mirror to look into.
But, still I feel like my life is still under 24 hour surveillance
every blink, breath, whisper, caught and recorded, kept away,
to stare at daily and pick at, deciphering every meaning to every word I say.
Every day the lens is cleaned and checked for damage
every tape is repeatedly played,
checking vigorously for evidence of a crime,
a crime that I never committed though, except being a victim to time.
This poem is from the collection 'Broken Dolll' - http://bit.ly/brokendollmt