Eyes are called
                              windows into your soul
                              But sitting in front of you
                              listening to the buzzing of drones
                              I see nothing
                              A blank space
                                        demonstrative of nothing
                              
                              When I look past you, outside
                              I see life teeming
                              the life I wanted
                              	to see in your eyes
                              It fills me with a longing
                                        to be among it
                              To play, to breathe
                                        to be
                              
                              And I am filled with fear
                              at what you might see
                              when you find mine eyes
                              The same vacancy?
                              The same void?
                              
                              That's fucking terrifying
                              7/17/14  
                              
                                      
                                          
                                   
                                              YOU ARE READING
Typed Word Series
PoetryWords connect all of us. Through laughter, memories, or ridiculous melancholy, we are what we say and what we write. TWS differs from WWS in form only. These are poems longer than 7 lines, allowing a little more freedom in exploring themes and more...
 
                                               
                                                  