Myself

If I met myself

Walking down a dark street,

I wonder:

Would I tremble in fear,

Or run for dear life?

If I met myself

Eating at the corner cafe,

I wonder:

Would I sit in the farthest corner,

Or skip lunch that day?

If I met myself

Cowering in a dark corner,

I wonder:

Would I suck my thumb,

Or grow bumps on my skin?

Would I ever stop running

from myself, from myself?

Would I ever stop fearing

what I’ve become?

Or will I keep hiding

from myself?