He possessed
a godly stare,
it was
a luxurious,
burning
blade,
that seemed
to cut
right into
the heart
of who
you are.
But
I have learned
that the eyes
betray
nothing,
mean
nothing.
Windows
to the soul,
they are not,
for I have searched,
reached,
for a semblance
of acknowledgement
towards
the emotions,
the pleas,
in my eyes
and found
nothing.
Simply
coldly
shining
eyes.
Thus,
I am sure,
that
despite
the power
he may have,
he could
never know
of the truths
my eyes hold.
YOU ARE READING
before i learned to breathe
PoetryA series of the poems I made in 2018, the year a lot of things changed for me and those around me. It's the year I forgot how to breathe, but also the one where I slowly found myself again and learned to be who I am.
