And what would happen if you
Looked into my eyes...

And realised?

These glazed eyes,
A distorted tautologous window.

A facade of transparency.
The window is misted
It’s distorted with the touch of an October morning.

And I fear.

You will not see through this window,
This glass.
Until it has shattered,
And all that remains is a soul,
That has been freed.