Maverick St.Claire

Forgetfulness
A fear to think about what you have always wanted to be.
We never have what we need.
But we think we always need what we want.
But in the end we always need a sense of needing something we want to need.
I don't know where we would go without it.
We are all just lost souls,
Forged from clay.
Sculpted with masks of many expressions.
Some sad,
Some hollow.
Some happy,
Some I can't tell if they are seldom weak or just passing by.
For a short while,
I thought it was all I would need.
A short while,
I thought you would never know.
Upon realizing,
I am just a broken safe.
Toying with my locks laughing at myself.
Because I know now I can never protect anything stored deep inside my cold frame.
A picture of a personality, a picture of a dream.
The man I see in the painted glass is lonesome and confused.
He is known by few.
But On closer inspection I discover.
The man behind the glass.
Whispers… I am you.