Face after face after face, they stare out at me. I look into eyes full of hope and pain, fear and courage, longing and loneliness,
and the faces, the voices, the yearning are all my own.
How are we to find the one who is looking for us, with that unique blend of terror and anticipation that makes us their "perfect match?"
We each want to change our subscription to the romance channel. No more docu-dramas, please!
So much history, so many angry silent nights The full moon mocking, cold and distant.
Please care. Talk to me. Hold my hand-- Dance with me! Be fun! Make me laugh-- Don't hurt me. Please, don't hurt me!
We smile bravely for the camera, affecting a nonchalance that is gone forever, and we show our friends that we have recovered-- the surgery was completely successful! See?
The scar is barely visible, true. But tell me honestly, can you really feel life Now, through the scar tissue of Then?
Written 2005 Copyright 2010 by Michael S. Simpson.