Eyes

It's hard not to notice the sadness sometimes...

I see their eyes, and they cause a deep, transcending experience into their gray scale dimension. No silver lining, no light at the end of the endless tunnel. Just gray. Sure, there are different shades of gray to tell the objects in this space apart. You know that there have to be objects in this particular dimension, otherwise this would just be a dimension of delusion, insanity. Discerning it is what keeps the mind from being influenced into insanity.

Sometimes they put on that war paint to hide the sadness. They illuminate the corner of their eye and bring some color and brightness to the somber backdrop. Who are they kidding? But sometimes the war paint mirrors the sadness. The curves of the black pen take on a despondent turn, a depressive sigh materialized. And I begin to examine those lines further, but my eyes begin to sting. And right before I back away, I notice the glossy look of their eyes and the red veins rooting themselves in their eyes. I know they're about to explode with vigorous emotion. I take a step back anticipating the mushroom cloud, and see myself staring back, convulsing in tears and repressed sentiments...

"They" is me.

Shit.