Maskless in the Masquerade
You tear my heart out in the process of loving me,
Idolize and worship me,
Like some plastic face on your TV,
Tell me are you happy this way?
You're making me out to be more than I am.
You're making me out to be less human,
And more god.
I do not want to be god.
I don't want you to show me the idealistic perfect thing that you want to be,
I want you to show me the beautiful unique person that you are.
We're dancing in a masquerade ball darling, but I've taken off my jewled and sparkly mask.
Won't you join me? Won't you be vulnerable with me?
You've ripped my heart out, it's yours to keep, as long as you don't fade away.
This isn't a good-bye, this isn't an I'm sorry, this is a help me. Work with me. Dance with me maskless and free, stop focusing on how to please me because you're driving the stake into my heart each time. I know I'm not perfect, and I know you're not either. But where one of us fails the other succeeds then pulls the failing one up but that's not what's happening here. I know I'm getting too emotional, breaking down in front of a crowd but this is the only way I know how.
I've tried to explain to you in many ways,
A constant blunt approach, a mute play for the blind.
A heart that's breaking in the process of beating,
How does this story end?
A love that's fading in the process of changing
How did it even begin?
Am I losing you to yourself...?
Are you losing yourself to the ball? You're surrounded by masks so maybe you can put one on too? Dance with the rest of them as the world falls down?
Not a care in the world, fanning your pretty fans, wearing your pretty dresses, listening to the music but swaying off-beat, intoxicated from the smell of all of the perfume worn to cover up the stench of the rotting flesh.
Take off your mask darling, you'll see that the dinner tables are covered in dust and cob-webs and the food is rotting, covered with maggots and mold. See that the other dancers are decomposing as they laugh and smile and move their bodies without feeling the music. I've been dancing here, all alone, maskless and vulnerable, join me before it's too late.
This poem has gotten frighteningly morbid, and I'd apologize in advance if this wasn't the end of the poem...
So I'll leave you with this, this is my emotion. This is my genuinity. This is my downward spiral. What am I supposed to say?
Idolize and worship me,
Like some plastic face on your TV,
Tell me are you happy this way?
You're making me out to be more than I am.
You're making me out to be less human,
And more god.
I do not want to be god.
I don't want you to show me the idealistic perfect thing that you want to be,
I want you to show me the beautiful unique person that you are.
We're dancing in a masquerade ball darling, but I've taken off my jewled and sparkly mask.
Won't you join me? Won't you be vulnerable with me?
You've ripped my heart out, it's yours to keep, as long as you don't fade away.
This isn't a good-bye, this isn't an I'm sorry, this is a help me. Work with me. Dance with me maskless and free, stop focusing on how to please me because you're driving the stake into my heart each time. I know I'm not perfect, and I know you're not either. But where one of us fails the other succeeds then pulls the failing one up but that's not what's happening here. I know I'm getting too emotional, breaking down in front of a crowd but this is the only way I know how.
I've tried to explain to you in many ways,
A constant blunt approach, a mute play for the blind.
A heart that's breaking in the process of beating,
How does this story end?
A love that's fading in the process of changing
How did it even begin?
Am I losing you to yourself...?
Are you losing yourself to the ball? You're surrounded by masks so maybe you can put one on too? Dance with the rest of them as the world falls down?
Not a care in the world, fanning your pretty fans, wearing your pretty dresses, listening to the music but swaying off-beat, intoxicated from the smell of all of the perfume worn to cover up the stench of the rotting flesh.
Take off your mask darling, you'll see that the dinner tables are covered in dust and cob-webs and the food is rotting, covered with maggots and mold. See that the other dancers are decomposing as they laugh and smile and move their bodies without feeling the music. I've been dancing here, all alone, maskless and vulnerable, join me before it's too late.
This poem has gotten frighteningly morbid, and I'd apologize in advance if this wasn't the end of the poem...
So I'll leave you with this, this is my emotion. This is my genuinity. This is my downward spiral. What am I supposed to say?
♠ ♠ ♠
Something I wrote when sleep deprived after a few months of writers block..oops.