You really think I’m a piece of art that you can take hours admiring? I’m a human being and you have to respect that, no matter how beautiful my body seems. I don’t like your eyes going over every inch, I can feel them like a caress and I just want you to stop, I know exactly what you are staring at right now. I feel ashamed. I feel that just by looking at me you can know my secrets and I don’t like that.
Look away!!! Don’t tell me that you can’t because I feel vulnerable, I feel sad, I feel every emotion as always and you have no right to dig into my life, my life is mine with all I have been through and who are you to judge me?
At the beginning you thought the ribs were going to speak and you spent hours looking at them but they lie, you discovered it, that perfection is a lie, then you lost interest in them and you moved your eyes to other parts of my body, you thought maybe the muscles of my legs or the muscles of my arms were the answer but they were loyal to me and they remained silent, they just looked at you without saying anything but then you discovered it, and my heart started beating as fast as it could, that fucking vein!! It betrayed me, your eyes are looking at that vein in my left foot and it is willing to tell you everything, how dare it? It has been shouting at you, asking for your attention, it feels the necessity to tell you everything and I know it will speak. I’m afraid. Maybe you are not going to see me as you saw me the first time, now you know I’m vulnerable because of it, now that you are talking to it I want to hide, I don’t want to be here anymore, I want to disappear as I did that time when I tried to see the inside of it’s friend in my right wrist. They know each other, they support each other and it was ready to speak. This is it’s opportunity. Oh no! It is doing it. I can hear what it says and I want to cover it’s mouth but I can’t, it is telling you about the deepest sadness I feel, the shame I feel, it is telling you that for some reason I feel it all, everything at the same time, it is telling you that it doesn’t know how to cheer me up, it is telling you that it loves me and suddenly I feel more sadness, I feel little and ashamed, so ashamed. I don’t know where this sadness is coming from, I don’t know why sometimes I don’t want to be here, I don’t know why this body contradicts how I feel on the inside, I wish it could match my feelings but with me it doesn’t work that way, I’m like Michelangelo’s David, perfect from the outside but I wonder how he felt on the inside. Fortunately for him he doesn’t have a gossip vein that says it all.
It stopped talking to you, now it is looking at me, it’s eyes are begging me to forgive it, it needs me to understand that it was love who moved it to speak, I don’t want to see it, I don’t want to see you either.
Please just go away and don’t tell anyone my secret, just let them think that I’m a perfect marble sculpture, let them think that my heart is cold.
Stop looking At Me
by Mónica Huarte