Can you hear what I'm not saying?
I'm begging you, in God's name.
Don't be fooled by my appearance
because I wear
a thousand different masks
and none of them is the real me.
Don't let yourself be deceived—
in God's name, I'm asking you.
I seem confident,
sure of myself, at peace.
Like someone who needs no one.
Don't believe it.
Hidden beneath the mask
is my true self: confused, afraid, alone.
That's why I built myself
this mask, to protect myself
from the gaze that sees,
to hide.
And yet my only hope
lies in that very gaze.
As long as it's gentle and guided by love,
it's the only thing that can free me
from the prison walls
I've built around myself.
I'm terrified I'm worth nothing,
that I can do nothing,
and that you'll see it and reject me.
So the masks come out. I talk to you, tell you
everything that means nothing
and nothing of what means everything to me—
and I weep inside.
Please listen carefully
and try to understand what I'm not saying.
I really want
to be honest, authentic,
to be myself.
But I need your help.
I need you to reach out to me.
Every time you're kind,
gentle, encouraging,
every time you try to understand me
with genuine interest,
my heart takes flight—
weak wings, but wings nonetheless.
With your sensitivity,
compassion, and understanding,
you can free me from the shadow
of my own doubt,
from my lonely prison.
It's not easy, because
the closer you come
the more I defend myself.
I've been told
that love is stronger
than prison walls.
In that belief
lies my hope—
my only hope.
Please try to break down these
walls with a firm but gentle hand,
because every child is fragile.
Who am I—you ask?
I'm someone you know well.
Because I am every man
and every woman you meet,
and I am you too.
(from Alleluya - Arche. - no. 26)
Anonymous