I am in hiding

I was sixteen

I was Simone de Beauvoir

Deny your calling

and you will be lost

The walls of my tiny room

were covered with brown flowers,

a very narrow pattern,

the walls closing me into their skinny arms,

a tight embrace, barely breathable,

a very good place to hide though,

a very good place to

take a notebook and a pen

and to start my first

story:

I am Simone de Beauvoir

I live in Paris

in a wild and open

relationship with Jean Paul Sartre.

I am in hiding,

lost in the space

I created by will power

around me,

in my own world,

on my own terrain,

behind a veil of stories,

mostly funny,

some sad,

all designed to attract

whatever: luck, love, money.

(Actually: I never would have minded the money)

(Actually: I can be a little obsessed with money and the not having of it.)

I am in hiding

and can not find myself,

lost behind this veil of

too many words,

too many faces -

a veil?

no, no, sorry: a brickwall!

Can you heal me?

Answer: If you don’t heal yourself,

you will not be healed.

If you loose yourself,

nobody can find you.

© Susanne Becker