Nervous to be known

wait, stop
you remember me?
that was not part of
the plan. i have been
hiding out, in plain view
looking for the cracks
that still have sustenance
but without a guest book.
when it gets cold enough,
my coat gives me away.
but couldn't it still
be anyone? and where
did this fear come from?
i cover up the mirrors
so i don't recognize myself
when i look into the lake's
surface, with just another
face, unidentified crying 
object.