Her eyes used to be the place I looked in to find innocence.
Her eyes; they were bright with pure, unadulterated innocence.
But she grew up.
And the more her eyes saw,
The more her innocence fled.
Her eyes are the place I look in
And experience epiphanies.
She had seen so much
So much that now her eyes tell stories
Stories that she wouldn’t – and couldn’t – share.
Stories that she wishes she never knew.
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