These eyes

More cobweb clearing, not ruminating. This is the fruit of a conversation with my daughter about caring for someone who lives with shame wounds and trauma, but learning that caring doesn’t ever mean sacrificing yourself to their fucked up ways. Empathy does sometimes have to be schooled with self-preservation.  

Do you remember these eyes

That looked and saw 

Saw the little boy 

Who trembled in fear

At the angry man 

Who never said “I love you”

Who only knew he was loved by 

The food in his mouth

Who was imprisoned in his yard

Not laughing with the neighbor children

Or learning to swim at the pool

Just a block away 

I saw you and wanted 

Badly for you to know, truly 

Know the tenderness that 

You never felt 

These eyes saw that boy

Little paper boy  

Trusting his earnings safe

With mom and dad  

Envisioning his new bicycle 

Only to find his early hours 

Delivering papers in the dark

Purchased bus fare for his sisters 

There was nothing left for him 

So all his trust was spent, as well 

I saw and wanted you to know, truly 

Know a person you could believe

I saw he carried shame beneath

The humor and the attitude  

Obsessive over thinking 

Pretense that he was fine 

Do you remember these eyes 

They saw the man whose anxiety

Held him prisoner  

Who questioned his self worth 

I saw and I wanted to heal you, truly 

Heal you and bring you peace 

But it was too late 

I saw a broken man 

No conscience, no respect 

Filled with racism and deceit 

Do you remember these eyes

When your lies were revealed

When you broke my trust 

Just like that little boy’s 

I want you to remember, truly

Remember those eyes 

Because they will never look in yours 

Again