THE ISOLATION JOURNALS - DAY 29 - I WANT TO BE SEEN
Today’s prompt:
[From Maggie Rogers] As a songwriter, I’ve found vulnerability to be a source of real power. It’s at the core of how I’ve defined the greatest songwriting—songs that have the ability to take one person’s experience and make it universal, songs that can clearly and simply express one’s feelings, needs, and desires.
I want to hold your hand. I want to dance with somebody. I want to be your dog. I want it that way. I want to break free.
In your deepest core, in your most vulnerable moments—what do you want?
I Want to be Seen
Sung to the tune of I Contain Multitudes (2020)
With apologies to Walt Whitman and Bob Dylan
Today, tomorrow, and yesterday, too
I shy from the limelight, as I so often do
Don’t like the attention, don’t want to be judged
I stand in the background, my image all smudged
I don’t bother with makeup, don’t polish or preen
But sometimes, I want to be seen.
I’ve got a beat-skipping heart, like a poet in love
I pray to whomever may watch from above
For the handsome young man I kissed once in June
For the much-adored brother I lost far too soon
Lost in the mem’ries of life lush and green
But sometimes, I want to be seen.
A slideshow of moments both happy and grim
A ring on my finger that binds me to him
Tell me, what’s next? What should I do?
Why do I sometimes feel empty and blue?
I live a straight life that is proper and clean
But sometimes, I want to be seen.
I'm just like Anne Frank, stuck behind a false wall
I’ve often been known to stumble and fall
I steer clear of the edge, stay inside the lines
I follow the rules and obey the signs.
I’m known to be prudent, soft-spoken and calm
My purpose in life: to act as a balm
To take care of others, attend to their needs
Good thoughts, good words, and good deeds
A life spent in service, all substance, no sheen
But sometimes, I want to be seen.
That day when we meet, you look past my face
As if I exist in a far distant place
Is it because I don’t demand space
Or maybe because I gave up the race?
I rarely complain, but now hear my scream:
Yes, I’ll admit it, I want to be seen.