Poetry of Stephanie Bennett Henry, Uncategorized

My Eyes Tell on Me

Nobody knows the reason for this sadness I wear like a new skin I like better than what I had before. I guess it’s all in my eyes, not easy to hide when they speak for me to tell the story I just can’t yet. Because I am not ready yet. I need more time for those chapters. I need more space to lay it all out, piece through the mess, until it stops hurting long enough to write it down. But if I write it, that means I will have to write an ending, and I will never acknowledge the ending of us. Same as you refuse to with words. I walk around in this skin like a wall that cannot be climbed, made of steel without windows, so no one can look in. I forgot to cover my eyes and they never did learn how to be quiet. The way they spill is brutal sometimes, the way they daze over, looking through everyone, not seeing a thing. Just the picture show my mind plays non-stop, shares it with my heart, bleeds out through my eyes… make it stop. Just make it stop. I don’t want to see it, but I cannot unsee it, same as I can never un-feel all of this. I think it’s cruel, how I break my heart, then run away from the mess left behind, avoiding it at all costs. Laying down eggshells in the path of every place I’ve ever been, or maybe those shells are yours and I keep walking on them instead of sweeping up the mess we made. Sometimes eggshells are easier than a conversation, so we lay them down, hoping there’s a message somewhere to avoid words. Roll around in the silence of casual strangers, because that sure is fucking easy. But it’s not for me. I’d rather be in a train crash than have to decipher silence like a code that only says fuck off. I read that coded communication, but we were more than turning a blind eye and running. We were head on like a crash that doesn’t leave the scene. I sit here with this wreckage I don’t know what to do with and you are as long gone as my spirit that died in the crash. I walk around the chaos or maybe the chaos walks around me. I don’t have a reason to give for the way my eyes keep telling on me. But that doesn’t stop everyone from asking why my heart is suddenly ripping through my eyes in the ugliest way. I keep the pain like a secret no one will ever know. No one will ever know, except you and me… and these eyes that never did learn how to keep secrets.

-Stephanie Bennett-Henry

3 thoughts on “My Eyes Tell on Me”

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