Peekaboo

So tell me,
should I pursue?
should I hold still?

Tell me,
will something happen?
not happen?

Full of questions,
you see, yes.
Was it my fault?
did I do something wrong?

Will I get another chance?
do I want another chance?

Noises form into
endless veils
hiding my heart.

Feels like iron walls,
but it’s only sound,
only noise,
thinnest of veils.

Yet it feels like iron,
two feet thick,
surrounded by
four feet of concrete,
within which my heart beats,
making no sound at all.