I am looking into her, but she is looking at me
I see yesterday's cuts on her arms, healed oddly so that people like me can still feel the pain she's going through. The pain of yesterday's words still sticking out from healed wounds, but she's looking at me.
I continue this examination of her and see she is a broken girl. I am broken too and I pray that she will stop looking at me. "Look into me", I beg silently. My eyes are open. My emotions are ready to let this someone see, walk beside me, experience how I think of my thoughts. She lifts her arm, extends her fingers and before she can ask if she can touch the blessing and the curse which holds me together, I pull my soul out of hers and forget her existence.
© Shaziane