Eyes That See

Eyes that see - I love to look into your eyes, yet fear it at the same time. 

Those dark orbs are full of truth, full of knowing, full of fire.

They see through me, past my mask,  and straight  into my fear,

Exposing my deepest hope, my greatest dreams, my darkest regrets.

They intrigue me.  They inspire me.  They see the truth of me.

But do you see it, or do your eyes only reflect the truth back to me?

You have eyes that see everything, even when you look at nothing.

I’ve tried so hard to hide - my mask is elaborate and hand-carved with great detail.

I’ve spent a lifetime adding thread  by thread, bead by bead, scar by scar,

Garnishing the perfect elaboration, building the perfect distraction.

But can you see me, or do your eyes only reflect me back to me?

I’ve looked into many sets of beautiful eyes,

And they have shown me the splendor of their hosts.

But in your eyes I don’t only see your beauty, but mine.

The first time I ever met their gaze it felt like the foundations of the earth shook,

My knees wanted to bend in worship to the god standing before me.

One glance and a fire ignited deep into my bones.

I’ve tried to run. I’ve tried to hide. I’ve tried to ignore and to deny.

But can you feel me too, or is the fire I feel my own passion reflecting back to me?

Eyes that see - will you look at me and tell me the truth?

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Etching Scars Upon Our Souls

There’s something inside me, a certain flickering flame, one that for a brief period of time burned really bright. So bright, in fact, it threatened to consume everything inside and around me. With both feet, I surrendered to it. It was magnificent, wonderful, and greater than anything I could ever imagine. But it was only for a moment. Over the past year it’s been dying. I felt it slipping away from me. Every day it grew smaller, colder, and darker. Every once in a while It would flare, just for a second, before it dimmed even more. The difference is that I’m not doing anything to stop it, now. I’ve done everything I could. I don’t understand why it has to be this way, but I’m praying it will hurry and die completely.

I can close my eyes, hear a particular song, or come across a familiar scent and instantly be transported back to that particular moment when that flame burned it’s hottest. I can still feel myself shaking as I stood on that curb, and in the background heard the sound of jet engines. It’s like an adrenaline sting - ice and fire at the same time. I’ve tried to hang onto that feeling for as long as I could, but I’ve finally reached a point - to let it go.

Recently, I’ve sought to see if another flame could be lit in its place. For a brief moment, the band-aid held. While there were definite sparks, there was also something missing inside. I’ve felt this emptiness before. It’s familiar. It’s the same numbness and void I felt standing in a little restaurant many years ago staring down at a set of dog tags. I can still hear the sound of those tags clanging against one another, reflecting the sunlight off their dented faces, sliding around along the riveted chain that held them. They made a distinct sound. Even to this day I can’t breathe when I think of that moment. What I find odd, I pass that little restaurant almost every day now – and though it’s closed, I can still feel the pain of that moment as if it were yesterday.

There are some moments in our lives that create these shadows, imprints, rifts in the universe, etching scars upon our souls. They never go away. Some are good, some are bad, all are significant. This is yet another scar. But as I have survived the others of my past, so too will I rise above this one. This latest burned brighter than all the ones before. Perhaps the next one will consume me completely.

Till next time,



~Scarred Soul