Underneath by dawi
Even a dark room is filled with memories, and no matter what its voice will say when you stumble around in uncertainty, things may, when light has finally flooded it, turn out to be the complete opposite.
Yes, we all have that feature; to hide and shove away our most macabre sides. To retreat from their unpleasant presence we both persuade ourselves of, and express the opposite of whats real and we do it so convincingly that we even scare the ones surrounding us.
There was always something wrong, something strange, unfinished in the periphery of the personality. All the time it made itself reminded, but the naivety only interpreted it as unpleasantness; undefined disgust. There was always depth, but it was never searched for.
And so it suddenly stood there before me, the figure. Cloaked, hooded, clouded, looking at me. Ever has it been by my side, always separated from the way of life, for it has distanced itself from its own being to survive in the world where it thinks its living, but it is only now, finally, that I see it.