I have always had trouble being myself with people. I only appear in pieces. I'm too afraid to show them everything, to give anyone the keys. Any one person the whole picture. It's my guarantee of safety. If they don't know everything, I still have room to dodge when the inevitable betrayal comes. When they try to hurt me. Because they always do. "Love"? What is love? Love is nothing more than a temporary user agreement. I supply what they want, they pretend they accept me and "love" me, that they cherish my existence. That they'll forgive my flaws instead of using them all against me. And I pretend to believe that they won't be the same rotten forsaking liars that all humans are underneath their pretty made-up skin.

I was always afraid of being "trapped" with someone knowing me and having nowhere to go, nothing else to become, nowhere to shift.

There was only one person I ever tried to be all of my true self with. All of what I knew to be me, both the beautiful and the ugly. It was a huge mistake. I don't know what I was thinking. But...that person made me believe.

Anyway. I can't even go past a certain point with my therapists. I can't let go of wanting them to have a certain image of me. I don't want to share my trade secrets, the things that protect me. I don't want to be seen. I just sink back into the shadows and relate through a facade - akin to a facade, but it feels far away from me, like a projected illusion.

What do you want to see?

choose the pieces
choose the pieces
that you can love
i'll frame them up
only display
the two by eights
as i slowly
disintegrate
holding your hands
i won't let go
i will keep us
spinning around;
a galaxy
of pinwheel fire

no one can love
someone like me
all the pieces
i am much too
ugly to see
ugly to touch

these twisted scars
and warped contours
tenderly touch
those who can't feel
that love for me

bare my soul
then reverse
misplaced faith
and then hurt

those silly words
"i will love you
as they could not"
did make me pause
stop to wonder
i should have known

i will pretend
that it was meant
yet won't mistake
the sentiment
for commitment
for devotion
or something like
a vow to stay
by my torn side
nor granting of
acceptance for
pieces unseen

stick to the bright frame
gold foil is the way
to a higher plane
somewhere safe and sane