This constant presence of you.
It's been a year or more.
You've seen the ugly bits,
The confused frayed edges.

All my lies and hedges,
a time to sit and ponder
On whispers of who I am to people.
Your sweet ****, my sweet heart.

That old whickering tremble
How did I get this lucky?
Bundled up in sweet cliches
Characters of my inner dialogue come to life

May I return to being an individual?
Once I find where I buried my Trust.
All the games and masks?
To conduct a minefield exposition.

My thoughts are so clean and linear
with you, I'm afraid you're synthetic.
A dog bites, it's tail
No one loves a lurker.

There'll come a time
when you'll have to stop hiding,
lay down your mask,
and come face me.