Will you cry with me?

I stand guilty before your eyes -
eyes that see,
only what they can see now;
but some day,
when you can look at yourself
with those very eyes,
that peer fearfully through a mask
that doesn't become you,
will you look me in the eye?
and will you cry with me?

will you then know who I am
beyond this thin veil,
that you're so scared to draw back
and expose your own rawness?
the world is not all chiffon and white roses
and pretty pink packages,
like you want it to be;
and so some day,
will you see my face
and will you cry with me?

there are no scales
to weigh or measure humanity;
there are no yardsticks
when you dream of walking the moon
or diving into the innards of a fiery earth;
the only scale is the ground
where I plant my two feet,
where shadow and light
merge into a formless nothingness,
beyond black, white or even grey;
and so some day will you hold me inside
and will you cry with me?

I am the terrorist
who shatters the glass house you live in,
I am the rapist
who sits inside watching you through the keyhole,
I am the murderer
who kills the demons that you hide away from,
I am the offender
who sits on the edge of right and wrong;
I am what you don't see in the mirror
that you smile and look into each day;
I am there, even if you don't want to see me,
even if you don't want to cry with me;
but will you stop by some day
and not run away
or look at me with pitiful eyes,
and will you cry with me?