Shelter From the World

Like gazing into a mirror her own reflection projects on to you.
Is it paranoia? Is it hallucination? Is it really truth?
Nothing is really certain!
Is it depression? is it obsession? Is it psychosis unbound,
her hair draped like a curtain?

She yells for some reason at the top of her lungs,
accusing you of words that you say;
She screams for no reason, the words are not real,
her thoughts controlling every ounce of her brain;
She strives for control; she is out of control,
tormented from the horror inside;
Never ever smiles, mad at the world, evidence her insides have died.
She lives a very sheltered life; she is a sad and lonely girl
who hides within her shattered soul seeking shelter from the world.

Her heart consumed with anger dwelling lost within her shell,
beyond belief does it seem possible to find a friend at will;
I am trying! I am here! can you see me in your focus?
I see someone that I can reach
where friendship cannot deceive us.

I know the evil on the surface is not real,
her sights are only blurred;
The scariest part is to watch this girl,
her innocense abruptly disturbed;
I look at her, I see her kindness underneath all her pain,
I so much want to be her friend
but she yells and yells again;
She says she is not in a very good place,
the reasons for her scenes,
How can she possibly have a friend when she is running out of steam?
She lives a very sheltered life; she is a sad and lonely girl
who hides behind her shattered soul seeking shelter from the world.

Is it true that everyone is watching her?
Are there many eyes fixated with plans to hurt?
It seems to me this isn't true but what is it going to do?
There are those who dislike the way you dress, the way you look,
the way you eat your food;
It is such a shame those who jude don't get to know the real you.

Do as you say, say as you do, this is also true for you.
How can you even begin to judge a person you don't even know.
Maybe you would like to know them but have no clue of how?
Maybe they would like to know you,
There is something missing now.

Is it paranoia? Is it hallucination? Is it really the truth?
Nothing is really certain!
Is it depression? is it obsession? is it psychosis unbound,
her hair draped like a curtain?
She yells for some reason at the top of her lungs,
accusing you of words that you say;
She screams for no reason, the words are not real,
her thoughts controlling every ounce of her brain;
She strives for control; she is out of control,
tormented from the horror inside;
Never ever smiles, mad at the world, evidence her insides have died.
I know the evil on the surface is not real,
her sights are only blurred;
The scariest part is to watch this girl,
her innocense abruptly disturbed;
I look at her, I see her kindness underneath all her pain,
I so much want to be her friend
but she yells and yells again;
She says she is not a very good place,
the reasons for her scenes,
How can she possibly have a friend when she is running out of steam?
She chooses to live a very sheltered life, a sad and lonely girl
and hide within her shattered soul seeking shelter from the world.

Paul Hickey
2-14-12