Whispering Eyes

Dragged out of my chest,

my veins searched for it’s source of

life.

She was not there.

The look of shame in her eyes.

The disappointment in her voice.

I am not what she assumed,

what she expected me to be.

I am different and she is

scared.

She took everything.

They both did.

I was nothing.

I was alone,

left with hateful whispers of

what I would become.

The terribleness of my nature.

But I ignored their stares, becoming who I am meant to be,

realizing who I was and

where I stand as myself.

Although I strive, they haunt

me, still watching my every move.

Her eyes and his.

They pressure me still.

My parents.

Trying to get me to believe and to be what

I am not nor who I wish to be perceived.

Only through

the vision of their eyes.