They say that the
eyes are the windows to the soul but yours show no response. I sit here, exposing my feelings, laying them out for all to see while you just stare straight ahead. Looking straight through me.
Should I take that to mean that you have no soul? That you have no feelings?
I refuse to believe that that could be true. That behind those unresponsive eyes, behind that wall so tall, there is nothing. So I keep at it. I keep trying to break through the barrier.
Then a glimmer of hope arises. Those eyes, that have stared so blankly, for so long begin turn red. I can see the tears welling up inside. But you fight it with all of your strength. And so those tears never fall. They get sucked back inside and the pressure continues to build.
And so my frustration continues while you focus your attention on building more walls. Stronger walls that can cope with the pressure within. And I wait for you to let the walls crumble.
You ask me why I persist. Maybe I can see into your soul more than you realise. Despite the walls, you're actually quite transparent.