Dreams

My mask shatters when I look at you.

I see a picture of you and it reminds me.

Reminds me that you don't want me. 

Those dreams I had of us as a family?

Us three? (maybe four one day!?) 

Shattered because you can't see the face behind. 

The warm, loving, caretaker. The glowing person who pretends to be so cold.

I can be cold. I can be distant. It's easy. 

But I wasn't cold with you and I never will be. You light me up! 

I don't want to drown you with selfishness. Maybe I have only seen your mask, but I can feel you glowing. Just break for me! So I can show you what love is.