Submitted to the 18-25 Project

Don’t be fooled by me.
Don’t be fooled by the mask I wear.
For I wear a mask, a thousand masks, masks that I’m afraid to take off,
and none of them is me.
Pretending is an art that’s second nature to me, but don’t be fooled.
For God’s sake don’t be fooled.
I give you the impression that I’m secure,
that all is sunny, that confidence is my name and coolness my game,
that the water’s calm and I need no-one.
But don’t believe me.

I panic at the thought of my weakness and fear being exposed.
That’s why I frantically create a mask to hide behind, a sophisticated façade to help me pretend,
to shield me from the glance that knows.
But such a glance is precisely my salvation.
My only hope and I know it.
That is, if it’s followed by acceptance, if it’s followed by love.
It’s the only thing that can liberate me from myself, from my own self-built prison walls, from the barriers I so painstakingly erect.
It’s the only thing that will assure me of what I can’t assure myself,
That I’m really worth something.

But I don’t tell you this. I don’t dare. I’m afraid to.
I’m afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance, will not be followed by love
I’m afraid you’ll think less of me, that you’ll laugh
And your laugh would kill me.
I’m afraid that deep down I’m nothing, that I’m just no good,
and that you will see this and reject me.

So I play my game, my desperate pretending game,
with a façade of assurance without
and a trembling child within.
I tell you everything that’s really nothing,
and nothing of what’s everything,
of what’s crying within me.

So when I I’m going through my routine
Do not be fooled by what I’m saying.
I want you to know how important you are to me,
how you alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble.
You alone can remove my mask
You alone can release me from my shadow-world of panic and uncertainty,
from my lonely prison. If you choose to.
Please do not pass me by. It will not be easy for you.
The nearer you approach me
the blinder I may strike back.
It’s irrational, but I fight against the very thing that I cry out for.
But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls
and in this lies my hope.
Please try to beat down those walls
with firm hands
but with gentle hands
for a child is very sensitive.

Who am I, you may wonder?
I am someone you know very well.
For I am every man you meet
and I am every woman you meet.

(adapted from original by Charles C. Finn) supplied by Lyn Place

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