Fanny tells me to be less grotesque
around her friends
because
she says
to them
I'm a jerk who doesn't care
for her or me or my attitude
I don't show her love
she feels ignored
but I've never lied to her
or them
I know as much as they do
what type of person I am
and yet
I've seen it happen time and time again
it's curiosity that draws them
and I can't hate
curiosity
and I can't blame them
for wondering what it is
behind my eyes
the secret
because everybody loves secrets
some
more than love itself
and they set off to find it
what I keep hidden behind my eyes
and who can blame me
for letting them probe
and squeeze
and there's marvel
in their eyes
as they stretch and tear and groan
and love
and fuck
their way deep into my soul
and there's empathy
pity
maybe
in their eyes
when they find out that
I really never lied
love
they say
will help you get up
and feel better and do better
and be less of an asshole
around others
for me
they say
and they decide to fight
alongside me
against myself
and they fight the good fight
too
they know as much as I do
it's not love
that's not the problem
that never really dies
and so
slowly the motivation
turns to panic
and there's
fear
in their eyes
and anger
frustration
no matter how much they fight
and love
and fuck
what I am
won't budge
and then it happens
a simple pop
amongst the suffering
after they've paid their price
for curisoity
they
learn to let go
and it changes them
even if in a minimal way
for the better
and they spread their arms
and their soul
and fly
and it breaks my heart
every time
