b and w

4. eyes and hiding

♀

he moved with me, today. i now avoid eyes from everyone but him. he still writes, he still looks. i wish he'd end it.

we met eyes for a moment, today. he smiled at me. something inside of me flipped, but i pushed it down. it made me feel dizzy. i turned away. i tried to remember his eyes. happy, careless, free. mine were the opposite. that's why i hide them. eyes can tell lots about one's soul, especially mine.

but i got to thinking today. if i spoke, smiled, talked to someone, maybe something would change. drastically. but nothing back at home. oh, how i hate home. there's never a dull moment there, that's for sure. but i've gotten used to it for the most part now: beer bottles scattered across the kitchen table, the bed for two usually only occupying one, unless someone 'new' comes along, and always, always, i am the victim.

she says i am the reason for this all. that without me, father would have stayed with her all these years. Then she cries. she sits with her alcohol and cries. it can go on for days. weeks. months. but somehow she seems to earn the money. i don't know how. she's been borrowing from family and friends. but at some point, al, favors come to an end, like this one. and we'll be kept behind so far... that's what i worry about, at least.

and that's what my eye show. they show that story. but thankfully no one knows yet i don't want their pity. when i'm thinking about all of this, the boy taps me. he taps me. touches me. the last time i was touched by someone else, it was more painful than this. he looks at me. i don't know what to say, so i turn away.

"you know, you should hide behind that hood." and the moment he says that, i got stuff. that's impossible. "doesn't it get stuffy in there?" he asks. he reaches for it. his hand pulls it down from my head, and the dizzy feeling comes again. it's strange. the hood is now completely off. he looks at me.

and for once, i look back.