“What is your greatest fear?” P asks after a regular round of apples and oranges and a round of thinking up each other’s’ epitaphs.
M fears insanity or being too bipolar to help herself but being aware of her condition.
K fears being misunderstood by his loved ones.
N fears physical handicap.
Which leads the group into many a morbid discussion of tribulations undergone by friends.
P fears abandonment or neglect from loved ones.
J, well, J fears being SEEN. Not being visible in the everyday sense, which they are anyway, but REALLY being visible to anyone. There is an image, a façade, layers, and layers of masks, which keep J functioning.
The mother, for example, is a soul deep part of the person and the persona. Warmth, wholesomeness, support, love, strength.
Fire is the element and only J knows how the internal hearth banks the flames. Exudes warmth, showcases strength, while the destructive power of the flame, the incineration, the brimstone, is directed inwards.
Cubs get the best of it, so do other loved ones. The burn, the ruin, the complete negative, is saved for the innermost self.
That she-wolf, that monster, that bitch, that horrible, loathed, cursed inner being that J is ashamed of meeting in the mirror. That entity, that baying at the moon were-creature, that pagan entity, that wiccan spirit that will, if seen, negate all love, destroy all affection, drive away all caring.
“” your eyes are not
The windows to your soul.
Green, blue, golden brown,
Indeterminate is the word…
In the depth of which,
Many have professed to drown!
You know, only you, how few
Can actually read
What the eyes say.
A few there are who can…
Better than you can disguise!
These are the ones you fear
They see too deep, and know
Too much of what you wish to hide
The communion – a tide
Resisting all attempts to stem
These are the ones you fear most,
More so than life itself.
Picking bare the deepest self,
That loath-ed inner being that stays
Under layers of polite niceness
And matronly warmth.
That she-demon who actually rules
Your desires, loves, hates
The one you would gladly kill,
If only you could.
She is you, and she is despised
She is why you hide
You cringe at the thought
Of a day alone with this
Seek to calm ever-present panic
Finding reason for a crowd
Playacting to the end of capacity
And SHE is the one they see
Those rare and so-precious people,
And you can only think of it as
A MATTER OF TIME
Before they leave!””