The pictures on my bedroom walls
Watch me in my self-consciousness.
I am not myself around them.
They stare at me, heartless.

Like ghosts of themselves,
I know the personalities of my spies.
They see the secrets that I hide.
They see through my lies.

And when I meet their true selves,
Perhaps in the shopping mall,
I marvel they don’t know my secrets,
Relayed to them by photos on my wall.