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.