I Have No Footprint

I feel invisible in the recording of my own life

A forced biography written by a ghost,
sold in a corner store newsstands beside porn magazines and expired soda

No one notices my overwhelming fear or misery, I remain nobody

Constantly walking on the far side of the walkway avoiding obstacles unaware of my heartbeat

I waste away slowly avoiding camera’s

My smile appears for holidays and disappears into its annual binge of alcohol

Old teachers are trying to look through my eyes and see the child they knew but continue walking through their lives, my body a scarred reminder of the life my parents created

My mask has remained on for so long I can no longer take it off without severe pain

I'm not brave enough