on the wall

 

to be a tiny spectator
winged
clued into your true self
privy to the private moments...
to find out,

what i KNOW

you hide
hid
...keep hidden
deep beneath
the boastful breast of confidence

beats
a fear of openness
so,
i wonder at times
what might i find
if i could sit
unseen and mute
in a room filled with
your fears
tears
secrets
and desires
what disclosure
would transpire?
what might become of it...
this...
idea of you
that even YOU
have no idea about
what idiosyncrasy
would spill from your pores
with no dam to hold it
no sleeve to tuck it into...
would your hand be apparent?
could you be true
with yourself...
in an empty room
just yourself, God and
a curious looking fly?

i wonder the answer

all of the time

wasting time,

wondering...
but...yea
i already know...
that my waiting in the wings
posted in stealth
is but hope on dope
because...
you
and others like you...
have built your life
on bricks of subterfuge
glued with pride
stacked against odds
formed in your mind
out of
that
false
evidence
appearing
real...
i would ask...
i HAVE asked
ready to embrace the truth
receptive to the light-less spaces
wanting my love
to candle light
the way

still...
i sit here, instead

imagining myself to be
an eye into your room
seeing the things

knowing finally

sighing in relief

at the splendid sight

of the things
you hide