Why is it every time I look into your eyes,
What stares me back is hidden, disguised.
Is the truth so hard to bare that we must wrap it In shrouds impossible to unviel from our souls?

Is the truth so hard to say that even our kisses hold back?
That even our touch remains unsure of it's existance?

What is it that lies behind the signs?
What is it that is being denied?

And If I raised my head to look into your eyes,
Would I see past what is hidden by brighter lights?
Or would I be left alone again,
sitting on the windowsill of life,
Looking at the happiness that is no longer mine?

Is love so hard to say that it robs you blind?
Is life so confusing that we are found even when we hide From the pain that is sure to come with time,
From the regret that burns holes through our eyes?

Yet despite the pain No matter the lies In this poem you will never read I know I see you right...

and I know I'll love you, you who have given me light.