Onyx eyes watching dark happenings, in the darkness of course. Onyx eyes so hard to read, all the while they’re trying to get a reaction, trying to gauge what’s happening in that mind. A smile that doesn’t seem to reach those orbits, those swirling galaxies of mystery.
I hate watching their eyes watching mine. It’s painful to watch their eyes darting back and forth between mine, waiting. Observing. Hoping.
Be thankful I can still look you in the eyes after it all.
Be thankful my eyes are onyx and not the clear blue of the waters I love so much.
So clear that you would see everything I’m truly feeling.