My curtain hides me
keeps me from being hurt again.
It hides how lonely I am
How much I crave touch
But I'm too afraid to reach out for it.
Afraid my heart will be broken.
Afraid to receive confirmation that I’m not good enough.
Afraid of rejection.
Afraid that my craving for touch
Will lead to me being pushy
Or overly familiar
And thus scaring others away.
I'm afraid of their disgust
If they ever found out about my masturbation addiction.
Afraid of the looks of scorn if they knew I'd been unchaste.
I let others see my love of being a teacher
But I'm afraid of them knowing
Of my past molestation.
Afraid that will make them think
That I might one day change
From victim to perpetrator.
So it’s swept behind the curtain.
I let people see that I lose myself in books.
What I hide is that even I find myself boring.
Why wouldn’t everyone else?
So I imagine a more exciting life.
I immerse myself
In the life of the characters
And think about what I would do in their place.
Behind my curtain, I feel hollow.
I show the world someone with drive,
Someone who has plans.
But I am pessimistic,
I expect all my plans to fall apart.
Behind the curtain, I am in pieces.
My curtain shows others I’m whole.