Art: Salvador Dali
He sees right through me.
Even the little things,
when called out, labeled
and (sometimes) admitted
are blatant transparencies,
in me,
in my flesh and bones
in my marrow.
Sometimes, we fool ourselves for so long
we come to believe
in that person,
the "character"
the anomaly of bullshit.
That's all it is...
A facade, ten years in the making
A semblance of normalcy,
that within His reach,
explodes the dream,
the dribble,
the invisible destiny.
He sees right through me,
so that I
may recapture
my sight.
-kyuuri
