Pop Girl: Poems & Sweet Scribbles

Things Aren't What They Seem to the Naked Eye

I am a rare species of human,

I'm the kind that notices things from even such a young age such as three,

I remember all the way back then and seeing how others interacted,

How they presented themselves and how others reacted,

If someone was usually stoic, people would find them angry, intimidating, scary even,

I would notice that if someone had that stoic face

It would raise concern in those around them,

I, this rare species of human, an Observer, see these things from the very beginning,

I used what I noticed to my advantage from my "research" on human behavior,

I saw that if someone always had a smile on their face they were seen as optimistic but naive and sometimes childish,

These people acting like they are just so willing to do anything for anyone,

Always willing to give a helping hand,

These people tended to be seen as the "Healers of the Brokenhearted"

People never became suspicious of people like this,

These people act are like this no matter how they actually felt,

Then it hit me

"If I act like those people I wouldn't have to say a single thing that goes wrong in my life,"

No one would have the slightest inkling as to what happened to me,

I knew that I wouldn't worry anyone about anything,

That and people would see me as "normal",

But I had to be careful not to let anyone know of me being an Observer,

Especially since my kind are generally looked down upon due to us bringing up things we noticed to others and bringing "offence",

But since I am human,

I had my slip ups here and there,

Though I always kept it hush with the true reason as to why I was "angry",

The downfall to us observers is that we are only able to observe things externally,

Never able to truly know what someone is feeling,

Due to that lack of information when finally found out when you hold all the bad, negative and wrong in,

I found out that everything that you did in the dark comes to light eventually,

After all these years of crying myself to sleep,

Screaming until I couldn't scream anymore all the while groping at anything and holding fast to it,

Painting my skin with my silver-bladed paint brush,

Allowing the red to seep through my canvas skin,

I had spent so long shedding so much of my blood and tears in the darkness,

After so many years of doing all of that and so much more,

I realized that if I continue to hide this monster I had become people would eventually find out,

But I realized it all too late,

At school I was already known as the gay, suicidal, schizophrenic freak,

I realized all too late that I had lost who I once was and could have been,

There are many downfalls to being this species of human,

We take notice to so many things on the outside,

And due to that one agonizing fact that we can't see the internal turmoil of others we ignore our own,

And then we turn into this,

I am an Observer,

This is my life,