PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

With the utterance of words 

My outter appearance cracks

The schism provides a small bright glimpse to those around me

They blink and have to recall what I said

I'm asleep, a walking dream

I don't know where I am, I just am

I'm an observer in this place

As long as I stay relaxed behind my veil, they won't know

Unfortunately, sometimes i wake up. 

In the mide of class. The market. The park

The awakening jolts my frame and disgust flushes through me

I see the world. I see myself.

And my outter appearance cracks

With the utterance of words.