★ ★ ★ ★



I am tired of hiding. That gut wrenching
Knot of fear. That sense that anyone can
Be the means of exposure, the reveal,
The awful glimpse of the real me. Drenching
Sweat. Hands that can’t lay still, can’t abandon
Their twitch, their tic. I fear everyone. Feel
Their eventual hate when they find the thing
I want to keep secret. Away. My plan

Was to live among them, to be unreal
Amidst the real. To assume. To pretend
To not be what no one thinks exists. Blend.

In. To stop being scared. To find a friend.

Juleigh Howard-Hobson’s poetry has appeared in Mooky Chick, Valparaiso Poetry Review, Dirty Girls Magazine, The Lyric, Able Muse, Coffin Bell, Poem, Revised (Marion Street Press), Lift Every Voice (Kissing Dynamite), and many other places. She is an urban drop out, living off-grid on the pacific north west coast, USA, where the skies are grey and monsters still prowl. Noms: The Pushcart, The Best of the Net and the Rhysling. 


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1 Comment

  1. Lord_Nougat

    Amen to this.

    You have a new fan today. And an old friend, who wants to re-establish friendship. Blessings to you and yours.


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