I think it's gotten to me,
I guess I just love being unseen.
I mean I want to be seen,
But something in my soul,
Shifts away from the beckoning light.
I make others perfect,
Instead of watching myself,
But why would I watch myself,
If the very sight of me,
Makes me falter to the ground?
I hand out joy and smiles,
In return for the tears and the
Screams.
I know who you are,
By only a look in the eye,
But me?
I have no idea,
What my cold eyes mean.
I've never felt this way,
Felt anxious,
In my anguish.
I've never wished to rather receive a
Smile,
Than give it.
All my life Ive given,
Rather than received.
I think my heart is changing.
It feels like a mutation.
But not the good kind.
Like a mutation from someone
Perfect,
The image of ideal.
Kindness runs in her veins,
Into someone selfish,
Selfish and aching for love.
Perhaps my joy is fading,
And my patience is withering.
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Poetic Justice
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