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The mask I wear is but this skin of mine,
They find it unbelievable to have this much shine,

Is it through a fault of mine,
one can't assume to see the shine?

Or are we so weary,
to see ambivalence behind every disguise?
Do you believe I can be my true self with you?
Or do suspect deceit from every true?
It has always been me and you and the tide,
All my thoughts and truths to hide;

tugged between the line that divides,
the sad still and the forever mad;

This moment I decide,
weather to be the wave or the sand;

As the vast sky sang its sleeping lullabies,
I woke up with million hanging eyes;

I watched them beckon me to their foreign land
So I left thorny black roses behind,
their dark secrets poisonous to my gentle heart;

I once exposed my hells and heavens,
the one I shared with my only treasure;

I exposed them to various unsuitable figures,
and never had I felt more unsettled,

And so I swore,
to vigorously guard what I preciously bore,
and only reveal it to my other soul;

So, dear pure soul,
sing for me,
cry for me,
laugh for me,
dance for me,
rage for me,
and pull me to your white world;

Rain down on me, your sparkling white roses,
let me swim between its endless soft petals,
intoxicate me with the scent of it all,
spin me around until I become whole under its cover;

And I shall eternally remain, regardless of sand or wave,  
a single black rose, in the field of all your white roses
I don't like to think I'm gullible or naive, but I have a patient tendency to give others the benefit of the doubt; to trust them with pieces of myself. So, I end up with hurt in my heart when I'm eventually betrayed or maybe when my romantic idea of a person shatters.

This poem is dedicated to my lover, and to anyone who has that one person whom they can rely on. The one they turn to to feel safe in in an embrace. It is dedicated to the ones who untie all the confusion one feels in their hurt, the goodness and badness clearly identified, the line clearly defined.

In gratefulness, I, we, will be eternally yours! For you bring warmth and solace to our world.
 May 2017 Mirror Mirage
Cné
What is the sky
but a canvas for clouds?
What is a city
but a canvas for crowds?
What is the meadow
so verdant and green
but a canvas for sheep
a pastoral scene?
What is the ocean
with reflections so blue,
than a canvas for sails
as they drift into view?
I think I shall paint...
Just as I curled in my ball of warmth, murky clouds came forth
With a petulant frown on my face, away the clouds I try to chase
Still above me disturbing my peace, I yield the fight and cease
A wounded heart I carry now, but these clouds I can’t allow!
To mend and heal, I need these clouds to peel!
Pained I look around, for a weapon to be found
Upon a pen I chance, and a flicker of hope I glance
Swiftly I snag a sheet, and witness my fingers scribble a feat
Once my frenzy came to end, my peace slowly recommenced
Now a contended smile on my face, the heavy clouds have been replaced
Cool breeze ruffles my hair, and I inhale rejuvenated air
Back to my ball of warmth I curl, my eyes close, and in comfort I twirl
There are times when I'm kept awake at night, thinking of all I did...or failed to do during the day; all the things I should and shouldn't have done/said. Being critical of oneself is unpleasant, to say the least. Having no one to express my troubles to, I turn to writing. I tend to write when I feel overly negative, and unconsciously I find myself creating a piece of writing that fights this negativity. It is true what they say about creation being a source of inspiration and relief. It gives me strength to move forward and appreciate the things I can't change! To just accept.

— The End —