One True Thing

They tell me I'm beautiful, the mirror men. I wonder if it's true, I wonder if it lies, beneath the surface, if a good personality and a home are all it takes to make one seem desirable. I wanted to be loved, don't think me ungreatful, but did I want to be loved because I am or because I am worthy?

Is this where it falls apart, because the cynic speaks true and the masks we wear are games we play to keep from falling backwards into waiting arms?

A fiddle plays and I wonder if my watercolor eyes are yet wet with tears.




	One True Thing in the ocean of noise Home Get Email Updates not the passenger and somewhere alfie smiles I used to have a hamster tree and the man with the golden gun lily is dancing on the table the room of the banished poet but you're not here I want to paint it black if you can come to california till human voices wake us Email Me Admin Password Remember Me 6097 Curiosities served Share on Facebook				2002-05-01 1:00 AM Painted Alone Previous Entry :: Next Entry Mood: amazed They tell me I'm beautiful, the mirror men. I wonder if it's true, I wonder if it lies, beneath the surface, if a good personality and a home are all it takes to make one seem desirable. I wanted to be loved, don't think me ungreatful, but did I want to be loved because I am or because I am worthy? Is this where it falls apart, because the cynic speaks true and the masks we wear are games we play to keep from falling backwards into waiting arms? A fiddle plays and I wonder if my watercolor eyes are yet wet with tears. Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top