By Leslie MacGillivray
My inability to drown out the overwhelming authority
of my inner voice
has enabled it to have a choke hold
around my words for most of my life.
I thought it simply must be a character trait
of being a woman
it certainly has been a necessity
for being seen as a good daughter.
A protection against those words
that long to come out
that would be disapproved of
would change the carefully crafted image I created.
A defense for the feelings written out in perfect sentences that
would merely be glanced at
and then discarded
for material far more stimulating.
This is how I have seen myself
in the memories of my childhood
that I have carried over
into the everyday routine that seems to be my life.
So I dream that I am more.
More exciting, interesting, dynamic, more everything
that would make me the kind of person
I would dream of knowing.
But dreams aren’t real,
at this rather disappointing moment,
I am the girl that no one knows,
surrounded by people and friends.
I make them laugh and feel great about themselves.
I keep everything light and silly.
That is my fortress
and no one penetrates it
because they have no idea
they are shut out.