Your Eyes

Your eyes look at me
accuse me.
I cannot look into them because I am
but of what?
For being human?
For having feelings?
For having emotions?
For living?
Living with the thought of not loving you
was too much to bare.
I was scared
so now your eyes look at me
accuse me,
hate me,
but can they one day look at me with love?

by Ida Margarita Nieves

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