muse

behind closed eyes

Muse,

What do you see, behind closed eyes?

Sometimes I lose sight of social taboos; I like to pretend that I knew them once, before I blinked too fast and decided to forget, I knew them. But I let go of most of them, when the opportunity to fill a page arises. I'm ashamed to admit that I've only ever been honest with paper. Even still, I'm a very good editor, most days. But the days I write you, I'll admit, are the only honest ones.

Sometimes I lose sight of social taboos, sometimes I ignore them. Today, I'm not sure which of the two mentalities I've adopted. It could be a mix of the both. After all, I'm not one for conformity or routine. I was just wondering, what exactly, you've locked away.

Everyone has something to hide. I'm sure not everyone keeps these skeletons inked on the back of their eyelids like I do, but there are closets for reasons. Most people make use of them, but I wouldn't be surprised if you keep your skeletons underneath that cap of yours. Wherever you may hide them, I've yet to find them. And I don't need to, like some do. I don't need to see your mistakes to appreciate your perfection, I don't need to feed off your failure to make your sucess more bearable. I don't need to know, to care about you. 

After all, I know you're not into people, or the way they feel. It's a mess that it's better to keep out of, if you can. And you can; I won't drag you into it, on my account (though I fear I have already, I know I have already). All I mean to admit is that I really would like to know; but that's true of anyone.

What do you see, behind closed eyes? 

Carrillo.