Modern Romanticism

A written smile
is just your belief
to see what you want
to see, when you
are in constant denial
while in the meanwhile
you have been dying
on the inside.

On the outside,
you hide your forever's
worth of scars
where dots are connected,
if to keep you deselected
from their lines -
those you blur.

Seeing it, up close,
lets me understand
what's clear, what's bland
about your cover-up.

No more beauty
to overwrite your truth,
for it's the ugliness
that's the glamor.

Finalize your fate,
aside from the torture
of knowing your
sensitive accusations.

I'll be the one
seeing no pages
remaining white,
anymore with fright,
while standing on
the razor's edge
of your surroundings.

You'll be the one
turning white into black,
retracing your footprints
to where you lost track.