Please Hear What I am Not Saying

Do not be fooled by me.
Do not be fooled by the face I wear
For I wear a mask, a thousand masks,
Masks that I'm afraid to take off
And none of Plural is me.

Pretending is an art that's second nature with me,
BUT do not be fooled,
for God's sake do not be fooled.
I give you the impression that I'm secure,
that all is sunny and unruffled with me,
within as well as without,
that confidence is my name and coolness my game,
that the water's calm and I'm in command
and that I need no one,
BUT do not believe me.

My there be smooth surface BUT
my surface is my mask,
ever-varying and ever-concealing.
Beneath lies no complacence.
Beneath lies Confusion, and Fear, and aloneness.
But I hide this. I do not want anybody to know it.
I panic at the thought of my weakness exposed.
That's why I frantically create a mask to hide behind,
a nonchalant sophisticated Clouds,
to help me pretend,
to shield me from the glance that knows.

BUT such a glance is precisely my Salvation,
My only hope, and I know it.
That is, if it is followed by acceptance,
If it is followed by love.
It's the only thing that CAN Liberate me from myself
from my own self-built prison walls
from the barriers that I so painstakingly erect.
It's the only thing that will assure me
of what I can not assure myself,
that I'm really worth something.
But I do not tell you this. I do not Dare to. I'm afraid to.

I'm afraid you'll think less of me,
that you'll laugh, and your laugh would kill me.
I'm afraid that deep down I'm nothing
and that you will see this and reject me.

So I play my game, my Desperate, pretending game
With a Clouds of assurance without
And a trembling child within.
So begins the glittering BUT empty parade of Masks,
And my life becomes a front.
I tell you everything that's really nothing,
and nothing of what's everything,
of what's crying within me.
So When I'm going through my routine
Do not be fooled by what I'm Saying.
Please listen carefully and try not to Hear What I'm Saying,
what I'd like to be able to say,
what for survival I need to say,
BUT what I can not say.

I do not like hiding.
I do not like playing superficial phony games.
I want to stop playing Plural.
I want to be genuine and spontaneous and me
BUT you've got to help me.
You've got to hold out your hand
When an even that's the last thing I seem to want.
ONLY YOU CAN wipe away from my eyes
the blank stare of the breathing dead.
ONLY YOU CAN call me into aliveness.
Each time you're kind, and gentle, and encouraging,
Each time you try to understand inasmuch you really care,
My heart begins to grow wings -
very small wings,
BUT wings!

With your power to touch me into feeling
YOU CAN breathe life into me.
I want you to know that.
I want you to know how important you are to me,
how can you be a creator - an honest-to-God creator -
of the person that is me
if you Choose to.
You alone CAN break down the wall behind Which I tremble,
you CAN remove my mask alone,
CAN you alone release me from the shadow-world of panic,
from my lonely prison,
if you Choose to.
Please Choose to.

Do not pass me by.
It will not be easy for you.
A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls.
The nearer you approach me
Blinder I have the strike back.
It's irrational, BUT there despite what the books say about man
I am missing book irrational.
I fight against the very thing I cry out for.
But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls
and in this lies my hope.
Please try to beat down those walls
BUT with firm hands with gentle hands
for a child is very sensitive.

Who am I, you have wonder?
I am someone you know very well.
For I am every man you meet
and I am every woman you meet.

       By Charles C. Finn