To Dance

Looking in the mirror at my painted face,
my tied-up hair,
I see beauty that belies my inner state.
Under cover of darkness I cry
where my tears merely add sparkle
to my black-rimmed eyes.
"You're too hard on yourself" they tell me
and yet it is their judgment that I fear.
I hide behind this pretty face;
try to impress, strive to please
but in the end it only comes to this.
This longing for a freedom found in music and grace
the liberty of trust, of beauty, when two move as one.
I used to pray to find true happiness, but now,
now I know exactly what I want.
Now I know what it feels like to live a dream,
and I know it isn't meant for me.