My true heart, that is the heart of my true self
faces a constant and ever-present fear
Not an earth-shattering fear
Nor a fear which induces trembles and quakes
But a fear far milder although far worse in its constant presence

My true heart, that of my true self fears people
People are hardly a reason for anxiety. I know.
I'm a person myself.
Yet their presence, their interest, their kindness
causes me to shrink back
causes me to retreat
causes me to freeze, paralyzed

My greatest hope, my true plea
is that I'll be ignored
To live in solitude and anonymity
To never be noticed

Then the taunting face of contradiction haunts me
As I fight for attention
and I wish for the greatest recognition
To be something and to be someone
but to do so in privacy
is the desire of my true heart, that of my true self