read please
im posting this for josh, therese, michelle, catherine, gracey, erina, and jaki.
because i think of each of you, when i read this poem, somehow each of you has impressed upon me that you may have an appreciation for the following. though even with that in mind, i believe it is something that everyone can relate to, so take the time and please read.
please hear what im not saying
by jill zevallos-solak
dont be fooled by me.
dont be fooled by the face i wear
for i wear a mask, a thousand masks,
masks that im afraid to take off,
and none of them is me.
pretending is an art that's second nature to me,
but don't be fooled.
for God's sake dont be fooled.
i give you the impression that i'm secure,
that confidence is my name and coolness is my game,
that the water's calm and im in command,
and that i need no one.
but dont believe me.
my surface may seem smooth but my surface
is my mask, ever-varying and ever-concealing.
beneath lies no complacence.
beneath lies confusion and fear and aloneness.
but i hide this. i dont want anybody to know it.
i panic at the thought of my weakness and fear being exposed.
thats why i frantically create a mask to hide behind,
a nonchalant sophisticated facade, to help me pretend,
to shield me from the glance that knows.
but such a glance is precisely my salvation.
my only hope, and i know it.
that is, if its followed by acceptance,
if its followed by love.
its the only thing that can liberate me from myself,
from my own self-built prison walls,
from the barriers i so painstakingly erect.
its the only thing that will assure me
of what i cant assure myself,
that im really worth something.
i dont like to hide.
i dont like to play superficial phony games.
i want to stop playing them.
i want to be genuine and spontaneous and me,
but youve got to help me.
youve got to hold out your hand
even when thats the last thing i seem to want.
only you can wipe away from my eyes
the bland stare of the breathing dead.
only you can call me into aliveness.
each time youre kind and gentle and encouraging,
each time you try to understand because you really care,
my heart begins to grow wings, very small wings,
very feeble wings,
but wings!
with your power to touch me into feeling
you can breathe life into me.
i want you to know that.
who am i, you may wonder.
i am someone you know very well.
for i am every man you meet,
and i am every woman you meet.
-jill zevallos-solak
im here, when you need me.