he's near sighted
everything from afar seems blurred and people seem to be
masses of motion in huddled crowds

he can see things up close
everything that's five feet in front gets noticed
i guess that why he never noticed me until i popped up on his phone screen
admiring from the mass of motion that he can't see

it's so easy
to fake a smile with him
i'll give him the signature "i'm dying inside and these tears aren't because i'm tired but look at these pearly whites" smile
and he'll belive it, but only because he can't really see  the falters in it

he's so pure
so golden
it makes me scared to hold
his hand because i wouldn't want to turn that gold black
or the diamond into coal
i'm scared he'll run if he ever saw my cold beating heart

he laughs when i shake, he jokes that i'm always cold
i mean what else would he think, i don't "look like someone with anxiety"
he thinks it's cute when i get all lustered and when my mind runs a mile a minute and that i worry consistently
but he doesn't know that these tendencies are due to the constant churing of gears in my head, working overtime and constantly leaking oil out
a working machine of overthinking

he doesn't know all of what makes me.. me
every flaw
every diagnosis
every scar
every puzzle piece  
every event
nor does he have to
he'll learn as time goes by
but for now he can think that i'm fine