Invisible

All I want to be is invisible,

Not to have an invisibility cloak, no that would be quite unfeasible,

Not the ability to turn it on or off, not a gadget, not science, not magic,

Or anything else, I just want to be invisible.

Every word that I say, carefully phrased, through night and day,

Forms your thoughts and feelings of me, in its own kind of way,

But You know nothing of me, a distant memory I am hard to find, hard to claim and even harder to bind.

Everything I say can and will be held against me.

The notion, of each commotion, I cause being cast to everything I intend to be,

Is as frightening, as any sight that upon my death-bed I could see,

Every discourse of me. In their imagination, filled with flaws past the devil’s creation,

What I want to be is invisible, no hesitation from damnation, do my feelings get across in this translation?

A walking contradiction, so why is it that I stay, is it that I like the pain, or more-so that I like the friction?

Or am I just in love with the idea of being the enigma, unknown to any forms of issues or stigma.

I’m the reflection of a projection in the best kind of way,

So many levels of deception of how I feel it would be enough to drive anyone insane,

Thought processes that even with the finest words would be painted in the worst form of way,

I’m not a man of god but since the first day I’ve been ready to pray away the disdain and pain,

Because all I want to be is invisible, and to avoid this conscious heart ache.

I could just keep quiet,

if you have ideas to keep my head down, I’d be happy to try it,

Because, sometimes, when you’re surrounded by people that’s when you realise you are alone.

When you talk but they look at their phone, when all you get for words are mindless drones,

They are concerned with all the little things, afraid to fly so they clip their own wings.

You realise, maybe leaving early will be good, because it hurts at times to not be understood.

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