Hidden away.
This was my life
For a quarter of a century.

Aquainted with no one
Except my family.

Seen only by a few.

I’m not hidden
Anymore.
At least,
My physical face
Isn’t hidden anymore.

But the inside
Is still
Hidden ­
Hidden away.

Don’t get too close ­
I hide it away,
Lock it up,
Throw away the key,
And walk away.

I’m sorry.

I think I want this
To be different.
But this ­
This hiding ­
Is all I know.

There is nothing else
But hiding.
The person inside
Is not who you think she is.

On the outside
She’s fearless,
Confident,
Rarely knows defeat.

She’s bold,
Outgoing,
Trail­blazing,
Out­spoken.

Her friends call her
An adventurer
Like no other,
Brave.

On the inside
She’s a little girl,
Curled up,
And afraid.

Unsure of herself
And the world she faces.
So fearful
Even a mouse
Makes her jump.
(But only when no one is watching.)

Baggage
So much baggage.
They told me lies
Those I trusted most.

“You’re unworthy”
“Worthless”
“A temptation”
“A servant”
“Weak”

Epithets
Like these
Were hurled at me
For that quarter of a century.

I cowered in the corner
And accepted them.
Even now,
I don’t always
Have the strength
To fight them.

I know, I know.
You say you see a warrior,
Never slowing in the fight
For youth and children.

But can’t your eyes see past?
Past the bravery?
Past the haunted thoughts?
Past the tell­tale eyes?
Past the moments of weakness?
The chinks in the armor?

To the child
Inside?

–

Aubrey currently resides in Dallas, where she teaches English to sophomores at an inner city high school. As soon as Aubrey could write, her journals became the canvas for poems and stories expressing the dreams of all things forbidden. Writing is still one of her best outlets, and she blogs at Tear off the Mask.