Why is he always so heard to see?
All those girls only love his skin,
A disguise he willingly wears
So that no one questions the inner him.
He's a shape shifter.
A con artist.
His deceit clouds your thoughts,
So that you forget where his heart is.
Even I,
His mate, lover, friend
Catch mainly blurs
And shadows, in the end.
But I saw him once,
And, to my surprise,
I instantly fell for the child
Behind the dying eyes.
It's been too long now,
So sometimes I forget
Why he revealed himself to only me
The first time we met.
He can blend in so well
Against the darkness in his heart.
And he knows that when I lose him,
It tears my world apart.
Still, he disappears
And hardly turns around.
I always cry when he goes,
But I never make a sound.
That's why I hold him at night.
I use my hands to see
And although his apathy is blinding,
I sense his warmth for me.
In his world of grey,
His true color never shows.
But my love will someday illuminate him
And deep down, I think he knows.
The last of my strangely random-seeming poetry. I don't usually rhyme in my poems - please review and tell me if it's alright. Sasuke and Naruto, forever, are my OTP of the Naruto-verse. It's too canon to not be lovely.