The first time I was told I had doe eyes
Was by the mother (who hated me) of a boy I very much did not love.
That was three days after she asked me
"So what are you, exactly?"

In reference to my nationality.

The first time I was told I had bedroom eyes
Was when I was living in a hotel
With my parents.
And I was cornered in the laundry room
By one of the other, much older, patrons.
He didn't leave
Until my older brother ran in and stared him down.
We didn't talk about it.

The very next day,
A girl in my class was talking to a boy she liked.
I didn't quite understand the interaction until a no-longer-friend of mine
Pointed it out to me.
He rolled his eyes away from her,
And she sulked off.
He turned towards me and said,
"I wish she was more like you. You have bedroom eyes."

I didn't understand this term until a year later,
When I was sitting in a biology class in Georgia,
And the school's premier "stud" (and ****)
Thought he would get something out of sitting next to me.
He went on to explain what bedroom eyes meant,
In vivid detail as to why I had them.
Before I could react,
One of his friends grabbed my shoulder.

I wish I could say I reached around and punched him in the stomach.

But that isn't until later.

No, I stood there, frozen, and hurriedly got up when the bell rang.

One of my only friends from that school walked me to my classes for the remainder of time that I lived there.

I move back home,
And a friend of mine likes to take pictures of me.
My favorite of them is one where I'm not making eye contact.

That friend who walked me to class
Sent me a message.
"Your new picture looks so hot."
I respond
"Thanks, I guess?"
He types back,
"Would be better if I could see those doe eyes though."
I shudder and don't respond.
He types again.
"Nudes?"
I tell him to *******,
Except in more, much more graphic and violent words,
Before blocking him.

Two years pass,
And I'm out of the relationship with the boy
Whose mother hated me
(And I hated him, and I'm pretty sure he hated me
From scars on my knuckles and bruises all over me)
A friend of mine says he wants to go out with me,
I shrug, why not?
He calls me a babe.
Tells me I have bedroom eyes.
I tell him I can't do this.
We don't talk again.

Why is it that my eyes alone
Define me as a ****** being?
I don't have to do anything,
Say anything.
Is it how I try not to make eye contact,
How I keep my eyes on the ground,
Because eye contact, I've learned
Is an invitation to some.
It means "I want to talk to you."
It means "Tell me how I look."
It means "Tell me about my bedroom eyes."
When I blink up at you with long black eyelashes,
And pouting pink lips.

Is that what they see,
When I look up?

Because that is not what I am saying.

I don't know what your doe eyes are saying but
My doe eyes are not saying that.

My doe eyes are saying
That I am fueled by a determination to live
Despite everything else.

My doe eyes are saying
That you can ******* if you don't like that,
If you don't like me.

My doe eyes are saying
No, I won't send you "pics" and I won't be seen as an object.

Because my doe eyes
Are more than just doe eyes.
They're my eyes.
And that's got to be worth something more
Than bedroom eyes.