17/F/Midwestern America "One thing have I asked of the Lord, that I will seek... to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and seek him in his temple."
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I beg that her innocent eyes do not conceal the same pain that lurks within my own. She is life and she is beauty Joy Love Please let me believe only that. Please, She shows from her heart kindness, pure. Happy hope.
That is what they say about me. That I know only hope and joy. That innocence is my clothing But they do not see the pain in my infected heart And I did not see it in her.
Oh, do not let it be.
She truly is kindness and hope and...
So am I. The light is real, only tired And hurt. It shines through the cracks in our hearts, all divided. It shines through dullness and sin
But as I halfway expose my shame, I see her do the same. In throwaway lines wry admissions. A casual mention dulls the pain I see her do the same.
I wish we could be pure All the way honest, even in our blackness And let our pain and goodness show alike in truth, rather than letting the infection spread.
Please don't conform to the mass of us hurting and hiding it. Bleed in your open way Outside And let the stain be washed away And stand wide awake and clean With innocent eyes