My head tackled down,
viewing at the ground.
I dare not lift my expression,
as your eyes may meet mine.
It´s not that you don’t catch my interest.
Have faith in me when I say this.
But my eyes are the window to my soul.
I´m scared to show you, how badly I am wounded.
One look at me, and you will see, that I am damaged.
I am broken, and I am torn.
Ripped from joy, from happiness and from pleasure.
Your look pierce through my senses.
I tremble, with every single nerve in my body.
Frightened, that you might see who I really am.
It hurts me to expose all these wounds,
that I attempt so desperately to stitch.
I try, but I am too fearful to display myself so openly.
The wall of protection that I have built for myself is withering.
Lay your eyes on mine, and I will crumble.
For I have been strong for too long.
One taste of intimacy,
has me uncluttered, like the work of a world-famous artist,
exhibited for everyone to see.
And that, I am not ready for.