You hide your true identity.
Your friends think they know you, but they don't.
Your parents think that there isn't more to know about you, but they don't know.
You kid thinks you're an entire universe in yourself, but you live a a parallel reality on the side.
Your colleges think you're unexposed, plain, self obsessed, cocooned.
But what they don't know is - you aren't.
You beat women on the side.
You lie to your wife and while you wear her name around your ring finger,
You have the courage to cress someone else with that very same hand.
The same lips you use to kiss you young one, you use for purposes much beyond dirty words.
When you take off your clothes at night, you don't take off the pretense.
Never exposing your scars and ugly skin to your own life.
Never at easy, fearing prying eyes.
You only take that off in private.
But privet is never really on your own,
Never in the confinement of small rooms that suffocate your soul,
Always in the presence of another being you delude and call your one true love.
Little do you have the guts to even look at yourself in the mirror
To acknowledge that there's not been one but a series of such strangers.
Who you put down I in private.
Who you torture behind closed doors.
Who you hurt with all your strength, both physical and emotionally.
You've created monsters with void pasts.
Their own reality and history diluted by your words.
Who are cruel to themselves and who ache to pain at your hands.
On the outside no one will ever be able to see this person.
On the outside no one will ever know those strangers.
Those few quiet woman, fragile flowers silently writhing at your hands.
You hide your true identity...
Your friends think they know you, but they don't..
But i do.
A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. - Charles Dickens
