You think the thick blackness under my eyes looks like
War paint.
Like I am going out to battle the world and defeat one and all
that dare stand before me.
You think this thick darkness under my eyes looks like
Attention seeking.
Like I am silently screaming for people to notice me
and come closer.
I only draw in those
enchanted by demons
in love with darkness
at home in the night.
You say that eyes are the window to the soul. You are right.
And I am shuttering mine.
But my war paint does not help me battle
the world
My war paint helps me hide the battles that rage
inside me.
I could cry
Wash it away.
Let it go and surrender
and then let you in.
But when you see me
I see myself, reflected
in your eyes
and my own verdict
is damning.