I created a change for myself to change my appearance,
And to hide behind the things that identify who I once was.
I am no longer that girl, that child, that innocent
Who once walked this ground, unknowing
And therefore unafraid of those things which lurk in dark places.
That reach out to rip away the faith I had in simple human decency.

To touch me and make me ashamed of those things,
Those fears that make me cry in the night;
Running from the smallest of noises and still not finding refuge behind heavy doors.
For nothing can stop my fear.

It chases my mind in circles,
Mocking me with its laughter.
I seek to find refuge in the things of my past,
Those comforting things that once brought me such peace are now empty.
They are not warm where I might find the peace that I once loved so.
They are cold.

I find myself as a child again, but no longer innocent.
The frailty of my mind cannot fathom the hatred that my heart continues to bear.
There’s a part of my soul which trembles at the thought of ‘everyday’ living.
The monotonous tones and ridiculous patterns of those who do not know what I know.

I scream at them, trying to make them see;
Only to find that I’m dreaming, living in my nightmare where no one sees those things,
Those things lurking and waiting for them,
Soon they will see, and they will know what I know.
Then they will do nothing but simply exist,
They will be as I am.
Marie
08/12/2005