Retreat

For a while, I want to be
Where no one knows me
Where no one will stare
At me as if I were a rare
Bird sighted when long thought dead
Where I'll not hear my name chanted
By those who follow me like they were enchanted
Where I would not feel taller than I was
Can sit with myself and watch for hours the clouds pass
Where I would not have to sit and hear myself praised
Painted, inflated, padded, and raised
Where I can look at the image in the eye
Laugh at the lies, and for a while, die