Eyes open the soul to inspection.
Sometimes when eyes meet the soul is filled with wonder and delight,
others an extreme desire to run and to fight,
an infestation that entangles and ensnares,
a **** that gathers there.

I have been burned by prying eyes,
their color, shape, and design
embedded into my memory for the remainder of my life.

In my mind, everything around those eyes have faded into obscurity over time.

The image at first is clear, but the edges fade rapidly,
Until all i see are the eyes filled with intensity.
A silent command, “Keep quiet.”

How could I have been so naive to have listened?
I remember being questioned when I kept my distance,
I said I didn't feel well,
An unheard cry for help.

I contemplated telling the truth,
But every time I thought to give proof,
I felt the eyes on me.
I was as if they could see everything within my head.

The eyes, they knew my intentions,
And their stormy presence gave way to hesitations,
It was not a total lie…
I wasn’t feeling well.

The cause of this unwell was what should be
Foreign to the lives of little children, like me.
This dark thing was not a thought to be entertained.
How is it that one morning you wake up,
Eyes masked by rose colored glasses,
And the next they’ve turned to jade?

Were my innocent eyes what made him want to pursue?
Open, inviting, gaps in the wall that hid my spirit?
Maybe that is why I was the target,
Windows wide enough for a thief to climb through.


I have very little memory of that time.
All that I can recall are those eyes,
Gleaming, and beady in the night,
Reflecting nothing but glimmer of the hallway light.

I remember how they looked when they looked back at me,
And forever those eyes will be trapped inside my memory.

What haunts me more than those grey and lifeless eyes,
Is how for all the times I saw those eyes,
They never seemed to see the tears in mine.

Dear Alcohol,
I can remember it all like it's happening now. The flashbacks are so real. The wallpaper on the wall. The exact stuffed animals on my bed and their positions. The wet towel on the floor. My Tweety bird comforter all neat and clean. The smell of Mr. Bubbles that filled my room. I was held down. My small bones cracking. My innocence taken at just age 12.

You came to me. You whispered in my ear "Drink me in I will take away your pain. I will keep your secret. Take those pills and cut your arms. I will help you commit suicide."

I ended up in the hospital three times because of you. The third time I almost didn't come through. I woke three days later with tubes down my throat. My perfect voice that used to sing opera is no longer there.

You lied to me. You made things worse. I no longer need you. My secret is out. Don't come to me and tell me I am not free. My life I wasted on you. All you tried to do was **** me.

No longer yours to take,
Sunny

You took my innocence
And stole my childhood
I will not forgive
I won't ever forget

I will, however
Move on

I am not a victim
I am a survivor
What you did out of weakness
Has made me stronger

A girl did often sit
bubbled in her wit
to keep her from his hands
and his darker plans
refusing to submit

Drunken nights he always tried
hunched over her bedside
she learned to just play dead
taking solace in her head
while her youth was crucified

In her bubble she did stay
never to go astray
too afraid to begin
awkward in her skin
no fresh air, just decay

I awake to a hand that's not mine. With each revolution my innocence buried deeper. My universe rips like a piece of paper until it's a storm of confetti secrets raining down on the grave of my hijacked childhood. Dug by the alcohol stained air whispering my name like a scratched record. I play dead.

1,
Run, run fast
2,
I'm coming to you
3,
I cannot find you, where are you?
4,
Are you there?  I'm about to catch you
5,
Don't try to hide
6,
You're about to be caught
7,
I can hear you
8,
I'm near you
9,
Hah, you're dead, i told you not to hide
10,
*inaudible sounds of laughter and shouts