Dirty little secrets covering the trail of lies. I partake with open eyes.
Legs part, accepting the facade, enveloped in warmth, I embrace.
Lying to myself, my eyes see what my heart refuses to accept.
Why, why, why?
Can’t you be what I feel you can be?
Or am I fooling myself with empty hope.
I am holding the jar, with shaking hands.
I stare as it hits the floor, smashes, breaks.
Delicate, dangerous, gleaming fragments scattered everywhere.
(note: the image is from pbase.com)