But I don’t want to be understood or known
And I want to die unsolved
I do not want them to know
The wrong direction in which my world revolves.
But I am afraid that…
They’d know the demons
That have possessed my eyes, heart and soul
They’d know my failures
They’d know I am incomplete, fragile and cold.
And they’d know everything that’s not shown
They’d know the process and the methods
I take up to survive and go on.
And they’d know my bones are black
And the way I hold my pen and write
They’d know I am always wrong
They’d know about the nights I silently cry.
They’d know my pain
And burns that love has caused
And they’d know my dreams
That are vague and lost.
They’d know my smile is not genuine
And that there is trouble beneath my skin
They’d know I love corners
And all the places I run and hide in.
To be known is to be ruined
This is what I have known
For, they know the whole of you
And then they turn into selfish stones.