“Photograph: When They Ask for Pieces of Me”

 

“Photograph: When They Ask for Pieces of Me”

When they ask to see my face,

To share a smile, a time, a place,

I feel my chest begin to freeze—

Like I’m being stripped beneath the trees.

 

A public square, a silent stare,

Mocking eyes that aren’t quite there.

They say, “It’s normal, just a pic,”

But something inside me turns sick.

 

I flinch at touch, even thru the screen,

Their words feel sharp, though they seem clean.

And when they ask for just one glance,

My heart retreats, I lose my stance.

 

I don’t own photos, not of me—

Just memories I’d rather flee.

No selfies stored, no pretty pose,

Just wounds I wear like hidden clothes.

 

I wonder why I’m not like them,

So free to share, to click, to send.

But maybe it’s this past of mine—

A storm that left no exit sign.

 

So if you ask and I pull back,

Please understand, it’s not attack.

It’s just my soul, still learning trust,

From years of hurt, and layers of dust.

 

You may not see the fight I fight—

But I am strong in quiet night.

And I am worthy, even still,

Without a photo, smile, or thrill.

 

So let me be, just as I am—

A whispered flame, a trembling lamb.

And if you truly wish to see—

Then look beyond the picture of me.

 

-Cosmos Poetry –

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