#thoughtsfromadustyshelf

Oh you were beautiful, any fool could see that. You had such hair at once tumbling dark gleaming, a river at midnight. Does it still shine, as you sit, shimmering haze, reading, curled shadow graceful between fingers as you stroll through the fast turned pages? In your mind you hid questions so well and quick deliver answers, a multilingual, certificated intellect to be admired. Is that all you are? Sought to be? An expert to your tongue tied followers, you know your place, and theirs? So who is beneath that tangled disguise, brows lifted in mock surprise, What do you hide? Eyes full of culled experience, harvested from every actors gesture, authors prose, directors intuition. Where do their imagined lives end and yours begin? You have an inherited audience thirsty for each word, swayed by a cultured tone and casual look. You were an expert in your field of self made experts, leader in your role of those who feel the need to lead. A measure not of success, but of a will, such a will now grown from the girl desperate not to be ignored. Lets not forget, laughing friends , loving, living, wrapped around your thoughts as ivy around a tree. Do they know all of you, or do you act for them as well? Your smile flashes cultured pearl to the world, your eyes as bright as gems, sparkle. Behind those eyes, now faded in my memory I recall what seared my sense from sanity to chuteless fall, scarred me to this day, not your witty phrase, or clever jibe, just a fleeting glimpse as the door closed, of the furnace locked inside. I fell into those flames and was consumed, reformed, reborn, an innocent lost , delivered bawling mewling, alone blistered into a silent world to live a lie as someone else, each day step from sleep to stage and back. A living grief for the man, before you, I used to be. Everyone knows you, everyone knows nothing. No one knows the thoughts behind those eyes. No one sees the doubt in your heart. No one hears the questions in each breath, Is this all there is? Is this all I am? Who listens to your thoughts to share them? Who waits for your fears to quell them? Who knows who you are beneath? Do you still lie awake to wonder what the dawn will hold, breathing cool night air as they sleep, do you think and doubt alone? But I am a fool, burned beyond chance of return. And fools hope when all hope is gone. DB@D