FEAR

I scream inside for you to notice me, but you look past me at other people. I run from you because I'm scared to run to you, that you might reject me, or maybe, accept me. I want you but I don't know what I want. I like you but I don't know my preferences. I need you, or do I really? I need you to make me feel loved. But what does that mean? What do I do to get it? And then, after that? I don't know. I ponder, I think, I run and hide and still don't know.

Forever circling around my own feelings and doubts. Fearing facing them. The fear drives me away from you. You smell the fear, turn away and seek someone else who doesn't fear as much. Or do you really?

Am I just imagining or is it real? Is it there? Are you there?

Do you know what I feel? Can you see the emotion etched out in my eyes? Can you see through my masks and walls? Is my mask protecting me at all or is it just a flimsy excuse to hide.

I don't have the answers, you don't seem to either. I just know I want you. And I will sit still and watch as you sweep another off her feet whilst wishing it was me. I'll pretend to hate you both, but I'll hate only me. And still, I'll want you.

Do you know, or even care? I want you to want me. I need to feel wanted and loved. Does anybody know that I scream inside, that I cry, that I hurt? Sometimes it feels as if my heart is being physically torn from my chest. The pain just sits there and I feel like a glass shattering into a thousand fragments in slow motion. I haven't found the superglue yet and the glassmaker can't make me over. All he can do is put the pieces back together, each in the right place with scars running everywhere I was broken. It will take a lifetime and longer. In the end it will resemble a glass, but imperfect and incomplete.

Do you know how you hurt me? Worse, how you make me hurt me, make me hate me? I don't hate you. I want to know who you are, still. Still I care.

Am I an idiot, a fool? You tell me.