Thursday, March 3, 2016

Surface

Sea of Porcelain, opaque glass, perfection, flawless, you might have gasped

To touch the smoothness of my fa├žade, a life that is perfect before man and God.

You cannot see the cracks inside, near the surface they creep and hide

But break through they cannot yet, force of will does keep them set.



If you saw the cracks would your reaction be? Hatred, disgust, deserving pity.

You cannot see them.  I won't survive, the light of scrutiny on my inside

Please be content with my beautiful skin.   A sham like me can't let you in.