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