Point Of View Poem by Isaak DeMaio

I'm looking through you,
where did you go?
I thought I knew you,
how could you hurt me so?
 
Confidence deteriorated,
happiness stresses out,
crystal blue fresh water eyes soil,
planting deep inside a beating heart.
 
Freezing temperatures in veins,
transferred through an air conditioned soul,
fan's blades spew endlessly-terrible apathy,
like dust clogging, standing by, a genuine side may show.
 
Impossible deciphering of metaphors,
directly depositing two unbiased cents,
too blind to vision what not matters,
a frontal bone that's way too dense.
 
Dreaming of dreams with secret means,
appropriately lying between the seams,
speaking tall, walking small, ignoring needs,
knowledge in all, empathy enthrall, an imagination bleeds.
 
Looking through peers with the greatest of ease,
noticing the little details too impossible to see,
watching the stars twinkle in the dark night sky,
bluntly stealing a book's cover and letting it die.
 
Smashing the paragraphs on each page,
crossing out words that leaves blank space,
expanding imagination in moonlight rays,
creating a universe where only two play.
 
Pleased to be unpredictably seen,
shaking the hand of fear easily,
contradictorily mistaken in between-
what I am and what you want me to be.
 
You may be looking through me,
but there is nowhere to go,
assuming what you knew,
only hurts yourself so.