Look at me. I see
eyes that used to see right through me, eyes that understood
a smile like an embrace, warm, secure, familiar
the figure I found temporary comfort in, like fragile shelter in a thunderstorm
the face I grew accustomed to searching for in crowds
but now no more. I see
eyes that no longer see me, a gaze of incomprehension
a smile for formality, one I barely recognize
the figure that was once my shelter from thunderstorms, now a shade for other souls—
a shade I do not need, for I am alright with glaring sun
the face I no longer search for in crowds,
you’re a fish I released back into the sea
you see
I could look at you forever
and never feel a thing.