People may claim to know me,
but I only let them see the outside.
The confident carefree facade,
the part I let them see.

I don't let them see inside.
It frightens me to think they might.
For they may not understand.

For what is inside is someone else.
Someone only I know.

Someone who is not confident not carefree,
but someone who is fearful and weak.
Someone who dwells within me,
and frightens me.

I desperately try to hide this inner self,
and at the same time wish someone knew.

Someone who could understand,
how weak and feeble I really am.
Someone who could understand,
my need to be touched-held-loved.

SOMEONE LIKE YOU