I like to walk backwards through a life less told,
Through rooms that have cobwebs from being so old.
I look over shoulders at days left forgot,
I shake my head slowly at memories for not.
I say good-bye to people easier than most,
Remembering them as you would a ghost.
Some say I have demons that hide in the dark,
I think I show them with an impersonal mark.
I have never been true to people or me,
I prefer to never let anyone see.
The masks I wear I hang in my mind,
Always at hand and easy to find.
For a time I was free and able to share,
Like a child acting out on a dare.
But as dares go they tend to hurt,
And leave you face down in the dirt.
So I walk backwards locking some doors,
Left to die on forgotten shores.