Naked

Don’t look. I’m naked. Exposed to the world for all to see. Stretch marks, proof of limits I’ve far exceeded. Battle scars represent sins I’ll never disclose and truths I will forever lie about. Skin too thin to hide the pain a strong mind subjected it to. Bare to the world my heightened senses cry out and breath in. I shield myself with words, blanket my heart with ice. I am in-penetrable. A vault without a key. I bleed tears and drown in fear. I am so afraid you’ll see me. All of me. Not just the parts I show you but what lies beneath the mask I wear. I cover my naked with misguided confidence. My insecurities buried in deceit. I am a drug you crave that has been laced and cut with foreign unknowns but you still want me. I don’t even want me. I trade lines and barter with time. I buy moments from you with bad checks. And I pretend to be what you want me to be, only I don’t want to be anyone other than me. Most days I don’t know who that is. I only recognize that I am alive because I hurt. Because I feel the breeze against my shell and shiver before I can even think. And it reminds me that I am naked. That I am exposed to a world I don’t belong to but exist in. With knowledge I wish I did not have. But I ate the fruit. Climbed the wrong trees. Sought shade from the wrong stone. What I am left with is no work of art. I pray my shield never washes away. It is fragile and tattered and heavy. It’s weight more a commitment than an obligation. But it is all I have. For directly beneath lies my naked. I don’t want you to see me naked.