I am just like you, all of you, all at once. I am the million emotions that dance so ceaselessly in your eyes, the smiles that flit from one face to another, the frowns that you grace others with, the tears you cry when you think no one watches you, I am the anger that simmers underneath the surface of your fake porcelain smiles, the resentment you feel, the disappointments that cloud your happiness, I am the pain that you desperately try to hide. I am a thousand thoughts, countless dreams of nameless faces. I sag and wither like the guilt you feel, I droop down like the despair which makes you hollow and haunted, yet I also rise like the hope you feel each day, what is yours, is also mine. I am each of you and each of none, the tiny broken pieces of your illusions, or the prickling shards of your honesty and truth. I am the bitterness of your jealousy, and the haze of your lust. I see you, living your fast lives, I see your masks of indifference, of half truths and half lies. I see how you live, in shadows, playing at cloak and dagger, I see the fumes of suffocation creeping along the persona you have built around yourself, you try to blend in, yet I still hear your silent shouts of ‘ notice me’ , ‘don’t let me rot away and die’. So I become you, the one you try so hard to shield and protect. I have to live like you to make you, each tale resurrecting your love, your heart and your situations.
Each time I write of you , I have to kill the parts of me that aren’t you, to understand you, I have to be your lover, your love, sometimes the one who cheated on you, or the whom you cheated upon. I am a million strings, untethered, I am a wanderer in search of the dreams I see in your eyes, I travel to find your homes for you in each tale I spin. I tangle your lives with my bloodline, because in that infinite second I have seen you, the real you, I have seen the raw emotions flowing through your veins, those that you couldn’t hide from a stranger, a faceless mask, who knew just what to look for. I find so much in you, the bad, the wonderful, the hurtful, all those shades of anger, of deep longing, of exhaustion, of greed, of life, of zeal and of immense courage. I see your needs, of not going unnoticed, the fear of being useless, the abject hunger to be recognised, and then I write of you, those who can’t be unseen once seen, then I write of the real you, the one who doesn’t want to be washed away from the sands of time, I write of you, for you, all of you.