Biding time in the shadows
Creeping and sneaking
Poking around the relics
Of my past
Waiting for an opening
To appear in my veneer
Anxious and angry
Living and breathing
Surviving on snippets of me
What do you see in your mind
When you think of me?
How distorted is the view
When looking through the lens
Of obsession?
You don’t want me,
The one that sleeps and eats,
Dreams and grows.
You want the rag doll
You sewed together
With the tangled threads
Of fantasy and feelings.
I am a woman, not your hobby.