I lie, apoplectic yet restless,
in the spaces between my words.
To be acknowledged by the eyes that abandon,
to be appreciated by the minds that spark out.
I scream, tight-lipped,
gazing into nothingness at the ceiling.
To be heard by the ears that are oblivious,
to be admired by the lovers who deceive.
Like a lake submerged in ocean of her thoughts
is disturbed by dropping a stone in it,
An abrupt fear breaks my slumber,
the fear of over-anticipation,
the fear of facing actuality.
I open my eyes,
lock my expectations,
and hide the key.
And begin perfecting the imitation,
of the 'me' that you see.