Some say innocence is bliss.
Not knowing,
Not seeing.
Never knowing,
Never seeing.
Bliss.
Or is it?
Words unspoken,
Words we could never say.
Put up a facade,
Where within lies the
Truth.
Or is it?
What I know,
What I percieve,
Seeing is believing,
It is what it is.
Or is it?
It's piercing me through,
It's tearing me apart,
It's breaking me up.
This,
Is.