Sight.

Seeing is believing.

Why can't you see
that I want you to see
who I really am.
My walls are built up.
Not to try to keep
you out,
but you can't see
that I need someone
to take the time
and read me,
read my stories,
flip through my pages.
I want it to be you,
who sees right through the lines,
but if it's not,
and you don't even time,
then why should I
even let you see
the real me?

Author's Note

Barely anyone.
You're the exception.

Reviews

[SpeakxNow]

Love it. good, emma.