I hide my eyes
because I don't want you
to see the endless longing in them.
Smiles cover up my fears
and help me to hold back tears.
I can't let you see inside
to the me that's real
or the helpless child I am.
The vulnerability would
be far too much for me to endure.
I only pretend to have such thick skin
by maitaining my placid expression.
You'd probably never guess it.
I let you see what you want to see
and you can draw your conclusions
from the misrepresented evidence
I've chosen to provide.
Sweet belle of the masquerade ball,
costumes of confidence
and masks made of smiles
are so much easier to maintain
than emotional expressions
that tempt you into
looking deeper into me still.
Sometimes, I wonder
if I could let myself let you
see into me,
see through me,
read me like you read
the pages of your favorite novel
until their words are nearly
committed to memory
and yet you re-read,
reanalyzing.
And I wonder if you would,
if I allowed it to be so.
Amanda Lukas
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-belle-of-the-masquerade-ball/
