In the mirror, my gaze drifts away,
can’t bear the sight where dark memories lay.
Lights off, water falls, hidden in steam,
where touch is a ghost, and safety a dream.
A hug from behind, a prison of arms,
each well-meant touch triggers silent alarms.
In my mind’s harsh grasp, I plot an escape,
skin shedding like garments, a grotesque drape.
I’m a stranger in my flesh, a discordant mix,
with every caress that I can’t fix.
In the quiet of night, I’m a silent plea,
touch me not, let me be, set me free.
Alone, with the echoes of my deceit,
seeking where pleasure and pain meet.
Tears blend with release, in shadows I confide,
a silent weep, where my fears reside.
Can you see the scars I wear inside?
The ones no light touches, where I hide.
Each caress is a story, a memory that burns,
in the stillness of night, the darkness returns.
So I’ll paint my pain in the shades of night,
hiding from the world, from the fright.
One day maybe, I’ll reclaim my touch,
till then, in my shadows, I’ll silently clutch.