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■ Escapism
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Looking through this scattered mirror shows me someone who is not worthy of your love. Twisted and bent against the perfection of the others; I am nothing, but only on the outside. Sweetest are the gems worked hard for, for ripe was the labour. Perhaps you cannot see past my rough exterior into my inner being; who I truly am. Or perhaps you are afraid to see.
Do I frighten you? Am I a vampire of the night, waiting for my next prey; my next victim? Is it you? Will I hurt you next? Or can I bring myself to save you from me? Like a blind person, you don't know the looks you get; from others, from me. Why can't you see how badly I am in love with you? I drop hints everywhere; it is the forensics gold mine of a crime scene. Do I need to pry your eyes open to my love, or have you seen it and quietly dismissed it? Are you playing extremely "hard to get"? Or are you consistantly brushing me off in an attempt to not hurt me? Hurt me, please. Tell me the truth. This mystery keeps killing me with every brush of skin; every look in your direction. Sadistic are your ways, to torture me like this. Please end my pain. Love me or let me die.
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