The Beauty of Eyes

Love for a Child

Riding in a car. The air is dark but the stars shine. It's too easy to leave and too late to leave alone.

I messed up. I don't know this man but he holds me close. I hate this. I hate myself for this but I refuse to be alone.

Stop looking at me like that. Stop. The mirror stares and judges every mark on my body. It's scary to see that I'm the one in the mirror.

Who's this man? Why is he here? Why is he laying in my bed? Get out. Get out.

Every night the same cycle. I meet strangers and take them home. I make money but not enough to live. Bruises cover my body too well.

You're watching. I know. But this addiction is too strong. I need money to survive and the only way I know is this.

Stop watching me. I see you. You don't try to hide. Stop. Please leave me be. I know this isn't right.

Take your wings and fly out of my life. Please. I can't let you see this anymore. I know it kills you like it kills me. I'm addicted to the money. Not a fan of the game.

I love you my angel. I see you too often for words. If you just touched me I wouldn't feel this crazy. Maybe the nerves finally got to me. Maybe you are only in my head. Please don't make me crazy.

Day by day I see your tears. You shed them for I and my stupid choices. The last one won't leave. He hits and steals but I am weak. I can't stop this.

Another night on the town. I come home. What is he doing here. Why is he not breathing? What happened? I feel desperate and scared.

You touch my shoulder. You touched me. You are real?

Did you do this? Why did this happen? What do I do?

You point to the needle laying beside the man. He killed himself. It's not our faults. What a relief.

You take my hand and look in my eyes. You dry my tears then pull me along. Out the door. On a train. You continue to hold me and guide me.

Where am I? Fields of green. Fruitful trees. A small house. Where am I? You guide me into the house. Yes I understand. Thank you.

A woman opens the door and smiles at me. My scars and dirt covered clothes mean nothing to her as she lets me inside.

I see pictures of you in this house. Is this who you were? Beautiful as always my dear.

The woman smiles watching me look at the pictures as she hands me clean clothes and guides me to the shower.

She takes me in. Feeds me. Gives me hope.

Thank you my angel. I finally understand. Thank you my love. My beloved. My angel.