If you looked deep in side me
You’d see a wound
That is harsh
I pretty it up with fancies,
Carefully concealing it
From myself, and so, I think,
But if I was honest,
I’d surmise you can see it
Even if you aren’t looking so deeply.
Sitting right underneath the fancies,
Neither pretty nor concealed.
You’d smile, quickly skimming my eyes with your own,
Careful to make the briefest eye contact –
Keeping it light and vaguely normal,
Raising the barest hint of suspicion,
In order that you might maintain
The carefully crafted facade.
And to avoid embarrassing me,
By plainly revealing what we both know
To be True.
But it’s quite pointless really.
Because I know you know.
And you know I know.
But neither of us knows
why I bother to conceal it,
anyway, instead of
learning to heal it
and live with the scar.
But, really, we both know that too…
Because the greatest obstacle is,
And always has been,
by Eileen Schilling, 4/9/10
eta: I feel the need to add a note here. My poetry often reflects my emotional state at any given moment. Keep in mind that I have a brain that is easily distracted and highly influenced by the emotionality of what is going on around me, whether it effects me personally or not. I’ve been reading some powerful things, and watching Six Feet Under (which details the broken nature of relationships, generally), and I wrote this a while ago on a day I was struggling with my own brokenness and contemplating the impact of unintended consequences and living with those things. Don’t read this to mean I’m drowning – more that I was drowning in that particular moment when this piece of writing came to me. It’s real – it reflects where I was in that moment, and because it feels true I want to share it, because it might resonate or mean something to someone else who may have felt this.