Hanging the drapes on the windows of my soul.


It seems to me you know too much.
You see me as nothing more than a name,
something to attach yourself to
in order to portray a more perfect image of "you"

Beautiful words flow from your tangled tongue
drawing me nearer with every strategically placed compliment.

awe stricken by the thought of your admiration
I blush.

Searching from my window longing for your touch.

But your heart is not true.
You cannot see who I am because to see who I am would mean that you could see me at all.

Hiding outside my windows

Those bushes can't mask your intentions.

I have hung the drapes

now I'm closing the blinds




"click" lights out.



where are you now?