Out walking the other day, I thought of how luxurious it is to be anonymous, if only for a for an hour. To be completely unknown, unseen, and unheard. To escape the sometimes overwhelming pressure of attention that must be paid to the overlord of responsibility. Sigh. Taking a simple walk on a nice, fall day feels like heaven. Listen to my heart.
I disappear in increments
too small for any instrument to see;
Afraid to make a run for it
thinking of all that I would leave
behind me.
On occasional days I vacate my life
pretending to be elsewhere.
It’s easier to handle stress and strife
when I can numb the screaming fear
inside me.
The phrase “Getting away”
takes on new meaning
when you’re forced
to stay
not quite against your will.
It’s just that still, sometimes,
after all these years
I whisper-wish I were Nobody
in a deep-blue knee-length hoody,
a shadow on someone’s lawn
where I could sleep ’til dawn
before going home where I must belong.