Naked Contradiction

“What do you want me to say?” I typed and pressed send.

“Exactly how u r,” he texted back. “Don’t fob me off with have a nice weekend.”

I was just glad that he wasn’t sitting in front of me, not that I would give anything away.

Not even my mirror reflected the real me.

When I stand before it, I don’t see the inner being scratching away at my insides, screaming to be set free from the pain that’s harboured within these walls called skin.

I don’t see the tears of sadness trying to flood the ducts, pouring over the hills which should stand tall as a smile.

My eyes refuse to betray me. Always ensuring they carry the same look of neutrality to the eyes of those that show indifference to my feelings. And when I recognise how many there are, I can’t help but recoil further. Trapping the inner me little by little; hushing the voices that cry out.

I put on my earphones, allowing the music to drown out the sounds and preventing people from striking up unnecessary conversations; blocking another portal of escape and the possibility of escapism.

My mouth muted, producing the occasional one worded answers, extinguishing the chance of more questions coming my way.

“She doesn’t realise she is a walking contradiction,” I typed and pressed send trying to change the conversation.

“Nor do you recognise that in you,” he replied.

I loathed the fact that he knew me so well…..


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