The Child

There is a child with no name who stays with me
He hides behind the wardrobe and the walls
And does not speak.
He stares at me with big vacant eyes as I sleep
And I cannot hide from him
I think he sings without sound because I hear him in my head
Lyrics of sorrow but not of his own;
He pities me and I cannot run from him.
Who is not fearful of the child with no name?
He is subhuman, possessed, a horrible creature.
Step forth if you wish to claim him,
For I loathe the way he haunts me.
He looks through me, into me,
And his voice echoes through every space I pass.
I cannot get rid of him, so tear him from me
So that I do not have to hear him, see him
And be reminded of his nameless face.
The child is me and I cannot escape him.

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