My eyes have held the weight of the unspeakable,
watched the slow unraveling of what once was whole.
They have memorized the trembling of hands,
the way love decays without a sound,
the quiet betrayals hidden in softened voices.
They have stood at the edge of grief,
witnessed the sun rise over ruins,
felt the cold of absence settle into bones.
They have seen faces that should have stayed,
watched them turn into echoes,
watched them fade into ghosts.
These eyes have wept until the world blurred,
until pain became water,
until sorrow carved rivers down my skin.
And yet, they learned to see through the flood,
to find light where only shadows grew.
They have healed by watching-
watching the way time stitches wounds in silence,
watching laughter creep into places where mourning once lived, watching their own reflection and learning,
that even in their darkness, they still shine.
Look into them, and you will know-
they have seen too much,
hurt too deeply,
but they remain,
soft, steady, unyielding.
Not just windows to a soul,
but the very proof
that it has survived.