beacon

you know I love you, right?
there's too many things I hide from you to make it work–
like the person I am and the person I could be don't work together.
but I love you, and there's a third person when I'm with you, 
the one that sleeps through the night and wakes up and looks for your hand
the one that gets your clothes ready in the morning and packs your lunch
and I love you, dearly, and when I look at you
I love you even more;

do you look at me and think we're drifting apart?
do you look at me and understand?
do you look at me frustrated, clueless, lost?
am I a beacon, am I blinding, am I the light?

we can stare at each other,
there's sweetness in your greenish-brown eyes
there's sweetness in my icy cold hands.

hold me, we'll understand, somehow, someday.

a quiet stream of denial

I am tired of not being the beautiful self I know I could be,
so I've resorted to lying about my conditions,
denying my urges,
feeling my cravings disappear as I go
and I don't care.
people weren't built to understand the way
shame operates on me.
so as long as there's no shame,
just a quiet stream of denial,
it'll be fine.
I can continue lying until is not a lie anymore.
I know where I'm going,
I don't need anyone to follow.