hiding behind the bushes
late at night with sunglasses on.
Because the reality is
that it's truly you
in my room at night,
sneaking through the window,
the stranger in the dark
with a ski-mask on. You're:
the people who ran the daycare
I went to as a young child,
the father of my best friend growing up
into a monster that I see before me.
It's my brother on our
blue, steel bunk beds,
it's the brother of the friend I
ran away to the house of
to jump on the trampoline -
whom says 'here, I think I drank
your beer' that makes me six
for three days from GHB.
You're the person I befriend
at a church where I eat dinner,
you're the guy she introduces me to
and all I have is one sip.
You're the man I marry,
that hurts my best friend,
because I'm passed out.
You're the girl I date
a year after him, who tells me
she'll never let anyone hurt me.
The stories we're told
are all lies to me now.
The reality of it is...
that sometimes I feel safer
with a stranger
than someone I've known for years.
Because more often than not
it's the ones we never suspect
that do the greatest harm.
Now I can see you
in the face of everyone I see and meet.
I'm trying to understand
if you're in the hearts of them -
and if you are,
is it because they are like you,
or if it's because they are like me.
I want a clear cut explanation.
But we can't pick
out of a crowd.
Not a very good one, I suppose... but it's like my own personal confession.
Sometimes... I wish they were all the monster in the bushes... but that's just not how it ended up.
It hurts more... that most of them were more than just acquaintances... they were lovers, friends, family, mentors --- people I trusted, people I even loved. It's the harsh truth of the world sometimes.
Copywrite Soulconstance aka Quin aka Me.