Eyes like open doors-

So welcoming,

but within that portal what’s in store?

Your voice,

soft as silk spun with truth,

wraps around my neck-

a purr turned noose.

I come nearer,

Drawn in,

but it seems too pure to trust, my dear.

That white porcelain disguise,

flawless until the cracks appear,

until the real you arises.

And still-

the appearance of innocence,

painted bright in the dark,

fragile,

fragile,

yet strong enough

to hold me here.

Why do I want it so much?

Why do I want your touch?

Behind your-

Appearance of innocence.

Your laugh-

it bends light,

shatters silence,

but underneath the bright,

there’s a low hum,

a dissonant note,

just off enough to unnerve.

I see it in the way

your fingers curl too tight

around the stem of the glass,

red staining the rim.

Was it wine,

or was it death held within?

And still-

the appearance of innocence,

painted bright in the dark,

fragile,

fragile,

yet strong enough

to hold me here.

Why do I want it so much?

Why do I want your touch?

Behind your-

Appearance of innocence.

-Façade

Appearance of innocence.

You never claim purity-

that’s the trick, isn’t it?

You let me build the lie for you,

let me carve my own illusion.

And when it shatters,

the shards cut me through,

not you.

No

Not you.

Why do I want it so much?

Why do I want your touch?

Behind your-

Appearance of innocence.

Your smile-

an edge dressed in velvet.

Your touch-

warm as frostbite. I felt it.

Oh, you wear innocence well,

but it fits too snuggly.

And me?

I let it choke me,

because I’d rather believe

in the lie

than face the pretense,

of what you are under your-

Appearance of innocence.