"Who are you?"
I smile and let my hands tighten around my nails in a habit I call 'Self Control'.
I have learned to keep my name a secret, one that even I forget sometimes.
Each syllable-each letter-every slight whisper that plunges out of my mouth into the heavy air-is laced with a hint of insecurity.
My name however is engulfed with a sense of uncertainty.
My name has been known to contribute to the shrine of trust issues that I keep hidden under my bed.
It is not I, that I do not trust, it is the person connected to the name that I hide away from.
YOU ARE READING
The Loving and The Loathing
PoetryThis is a collection of free verse poetry containing feelings of love, hatred, confusion and intense abandonment. Some poems have been written in full for five years. This is a first work for the author and the first time sharing this poetry with a...
