Unwrapping

You think you are wrapped well enough in your disguise
To keep us all in the dark.
You think you're hidden well enough in a sturdy box of your helpful acts.
You sealed yourself up with reasons that gleam like packaging tape and
Thousands of staples that will take so much effort to break.
Just to be sure, you cover yourself with the finishing touch:
The attractive wrapping paper, a bow, and a tag that says all of our names.
The final layer is thin, but pretty.
So much so that you think you can distract me with your reassurances,
With your offers to personally fix what is not broken in the first place.
What you do not know is this.
You are wrapped in the see-through paper that is like your eyes.
I can see the way they swim, the way you can't stay awake.
You secure yourself with flimsy Scotch tape
That breaks when your hands shake.
There is no eye-catching design,
No smart-looking bow to hide how thin you have grown.
There gift tag beside your heart is covered with the lies you are telling.
What you do not know is that I can see you.
You are not hiding as well as you think you are.
It takes no effort for me to start unwrapping you.