It's not so far below the surface. You don't even have to dig. I'm not hiding it, but I am afraid of showing it. It sees through the same blurry eyes, watches as my fingers get thinner against the window when the sun shines through. When I retract my hand and cover my eyes I still feel it, skeletal without a skeleton, creeping around the projection room. It casts shadows on a dark screen, making faces I've never seen. They stare and they smile in ways that make me cringe. I hug myself closer until my heart pushes against my arms, until my whole body shakes and I'm left gasping for breaths I can't take. If I don't contain it, it will do the things it could do. I know it's mind because it's mine. And though I'm stronger than it, it won't let me say it.
(photo via weekday.com)
