Perhaps I'm encased in a box
made out of two-way glass.
A biased one-way mirror...
Mutual vision doesn't meet nor pass.
When you look at me,
you only see,
yourself for all that you care...
Me? Just a faint suggestion that I'm even there.
Maybe that's why...
you ask about my life,
about my strife.
When I'm about to unload my
head,
I end up having to hear about yours
instead.
Perhaps at times I travel around
in a bubble of frosted glass.
Only a blurred version of me...
Clumsily ploughing through the mass.
Incoherent, misunderstood and unclear.
Unintelligible muffles of hopes and fear.
Maybe that's why...
My words are just perceived as
playful rhymes.
Never keeping up with the times.
Words regurgitated but no one
realises what's coming undone...
Perhaps what I need
is an armour of bulletproof glass.
One of unique quality...
One ahead of its class.
You can do and say what you want.
A shell that would bear most of the brunt.
I'll be impervious.
I'll be protected.
I can be indifferent.
I can be jaded.
Maybe that's all I need...
A shocking stunt.
A fresh perspective.
A new plan.
Revised objectives.
Maybe a different name to start all
over...
To tie the binds and thoughts that
scatter...
Hoping of holding everything
together...
Come morning, all will be
forgotten...
Maybe I'd still be beaten.
So for a chance that's,
fat as hell
or
thin just a sliver...
Truth is of the three, I have neither...
So...
*what I've said doesn't really matter.