See Me (The Photographer's Lover)

Messing around with a camera,
A click catches his smile.
I'm alright with this.
He can stay awhile.

Words are unnecessary,
They just get in the way.
We're running on a week here.
Doesn't really matter to me how long you stay.

I'm addicted.
I know you are too.
What is this going to be?
Are we really seeing this through?

You had to go,
Promised me you'd be right back.
Tiny tears began to fall from my eyes.
What is it that I really lack?

See me smile.
I'll believe you.
 I'll ignore all this denial.

  
Running on the fumes of candy and energy bars,
Wondering how much longer you can survive like this.
Pressing on anyways,
Pushing your limits. 

Beaches are the best places to mend a broken heart.
Or the worst,
Depending on if you reflect or reminisce..

Cry and blame it on some sand in your eyes.
It doesn't matter to me.
I just want you to be OK in the end.

We have another broken heart on the mend.

Come take a walk;
A walk on the dark side with me.

I'll show you something,
But if I do,
You have to promise not to run away.

You have to promise me you'll stay...

I wish I would have fought for more things than I let slip away.

Take me for what I am;
A firework packed with secrets just waiting to explode.

Someone help me,
I'm carrying a heavy load.

I hear you wear your heart on your sleeve.
I only wear tank tops.
Sorry to disappoint.

Beaten down underdog;Without anyone by her side.
All the while smiling..
I'm too high on life.

Somewhere through all these search lights,
I find my guiding light.

Scrolling down past names on a cellphone,
I shall never call any of them again.
These people hurt me most.

My heart was on the mend...

"Smile. Your beautiful."
What should that mean to me?
Beauty is only skin deep.
My body once again becomes my enemy.

See me.
You can't take you eyes of that camera lens.
You can't see me;
The me who is going to end up hurt in the end.

I left so many things in life unfinished.
I am stupid,
Because my heart thinks faster than my brain can.

But it's my heart telling me when to run.

That's where living hits me hard.
My lips are covered with battle scars.
Boxes and boxes of pictures; trying to find a person left in one of them that means something to me..

...That I meant something to.

Don't take this the wrong way.
Maybe I just don't have a picture of you. 
Or maybe you didn't have the heart to see me through.

See me.
Me who I am.

Don't change the lighting.
Don't airbrush my trials or hid my truths.
I'm the photographer's lover.
Everyone should know not to judge a book by its cover.