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I hide my eyes because I don't want you to see the endless longing in them. Smiles cover up my fears and help me to hold back tears. I can't let you see inside to the me that's real or the helpless child I am. The vulnerability would be far too much for me to endure. I only pretend to have such thick skin by maitaining my placid expression. You'd probably never guess it.
I let you see what you want to see and you can draw your conclusions from the misrepresented evidence I've chosen to provide.
Sweet belle of the masquerade ball, costumes of confidence and masks made of smiles are so much easier to maintain than emotional expressions that tempt you into looking deeper into me still.
Sometimes, I wonder if I could let myself let you see into me, see through me, read me like you read the pages of your favorite novel until their words are nearly committed to memory and yet you re-read, reanalyzing.
And I wonder if you would, if I allowed it to be so.
Amanda Lukas
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