What are you waiting for?

Come tell me that you love me. Under the spell of the midnight moon I will blush but you won’t be able to see. I hope to death that you remember what I look like under my mask. What if, one day, I take it off and you scream. I would die. Help me look beautiful to me. I don’t look into your eyes, hoping you can’t see the real me. My thoughts burst at the seam but if I can’t see you then you can’t see me. Right? That only worked when I was three. Forgive my subtle tongue and blabbing discontents. I feel I grieve too much for me. Who knew such an open ended family could teach a child to be so closed. Come back another day – operating hours are nine to five. Pictures make it easy – no need for a chat – frozen in time looking luxurious and cool. A gentle whisper rolls from her lips – but need not reply.