hidden identities

There’s people that observe you, silently,
they don’t disturb you,
rarely do they talk to you,
but the comfort of knowing they want nothing of you,
that they see the reality of you,
is enough to make you smile and reply,
in total silence, ‘I see you too.’

The life of an introvert is magical. They don’t need a constant bombardment of reassurance. But a true introvert does not force their way on others either. We know what we do and know what you don’t but never do we wish to become the life of the party whilst at the same time know, no one really has anything left to offer, if you’ve shown it all already.

“You are always happiest when you feel like you belong”, she said.
But we have a different theme going on in our head,
We have another path we gladfully tread,
and as empty as a cocoon on butterfly metamorphosis wings spread,
this lone path, quiet solitude, content absolve, we choose instead.

Make no mistake, we don’t deny the need for others to eat their bread,
be it belonging, or detachment, to eat their fill and make their bed,
but an introvert has conviction, for too long in isolation bled,
this confinement inside, bound and shackled, we’ve made our homestead.

We’re happiest when we un-belong,
when we feel like we are unknown,
except to the very person that matters the most,
that keeps us stable, and after God, that is ourselves.
‘He who knows themselves, knows God’,
and this is not to be understood through the lens of self assured ostentation,
but through the lens of abasement and acceptance of their folly,
their sin and petty vileness.
Once, they comprehend their lowly state,
they can admit to it, they can free from the shackles,
blinding them from accepting what they covet,
assuming they are unseen,
knowing in reality they are unclean.

The veils we wear are worst,
when we conceal the murky of our state,
to masquerade a grandeur that we are undeserving of,
nay, literally are just not.


Quote “You are always happiest when you feel like you belong”, by Layla Mkhayber

The art is by Andreas Poupoutsis and is called, the Hidden Identities by Andreas Poupoutsis, available here:

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