I see you have learned to treat like the savage I am, the savage I have learned to be, the savage I must be to survive.
I know you come onto here sometimes, to read into the depth of my soul. To get a glimpse of the softness you sense I possess. I can see it in your eyes, you’re looking for a not so redundant response, but alas all I give you is a blank stare and an indifferent smile. Ready to receive whatever you choose to give me, because my stance now is that win or lose I must keep breathing. I know the politeness kills you every time I dish it. I wish you met me way back then, when I believed in fairy tales. When falling wrecklessly in love was second nature to me, when smiling and speaking my heart came so easy. When all you had to do was look into my eyes and you could read my thoughts. When I could tell you in a single breath how I felt, holding nothing, with no fear or remorse.
I am sorry you met me now. At a time when I seem cold and unfeeling. When my only response to you is indifference, polite and perfect nonchalance, terribly sorry you found me at a time when cynicism is like second nature to me. Blank stares and polite smiles are all I have offered you. And you have caught on. You tried to draw my thoughts out but I did not budge, you tried to cause me the slightest bit of discomfort and still nothing. And now I see that you have learned to treat me like the savage I am,the savage I have learned to be, the savage I must be to survive. The savage I most definitely pretend to be. You have traded me back my cold and unfeeling stance. Indiferrence has become your favorite tool with me. I see you have learned to speak my tongue, ergo to not speak at all. I wonder sometimes does it cause as much discomfort as it does me?
Blank stares and polite smiles are all I have offered you but you must believe it’s not all I have to offer. Ye of little of faith, have we not been told that faith is to hope for things we do not see. Is it so hard to believe that underneath all of this nonchalance is a fiery spirited, warm and lovely being. Perhaps it is possible that my indifference is a cloak of fear. Yes, I am a little afraid, afraid of falling wrong, more so of falling right, falling too quickly and just maybe scaring you away. Should you pass by here just to take a glimpse into my soul, you must know my heart will skip a beat for every time you draw near me, the indifference will give me a chance to catch my breath, a chance to reign in some sanity into my madness.
“Every rose has its thorns, my just happens to be indifference.”
ART: Angel Wings by Angelina Vick