Cameras in the Closet*

I see you, seeing me. You think I don't, but I am wise to your ways, and I know where the lenses hide, behind mirrors that do not quite reflect as they should, in light fixtures, and other places you think so clever, but my paranoia is more than a match for your intelligence.

I hear you hearing me. You think I don't, but I am wise to your ways, and I know where the microphones hide, in electric outlets, behind the large paintings on the wall, and in other places you think so clever, but my paranoia is more than a match for your trifling toys.

I am wise to you, and yet I continue as though you are not there, because I do not want you to know I am wise. If I keep on as you think I should, you won't come seek me out, perhaps take me away, sequester me.

I hear the clicking, the whirring, the static crackle on the phone, and I know what you're doing, but I don't care, because as long as you don't know I know - I am safe.

*It's not all real...sometimes it's just imagination. Or is it??