His eyes were dark and fragile like stained glass windows, twinkling with the radiance of purity and sunlight. It was the same glow that makes little bird eggs grab your attention, and lights them from within like tiny paper lanterns. Not many are able to see such things though.
I wanted to catch him. I wanted to grab him by the waist and absorb everything that he was, but he had bled out this mess that I didn't know what to do with.
"I tried to kill myself more times than I can count. Every night for years, I had my hands around my throat. You can't die that way though- it's just impossible."
He laid out in front of me with all these gushing rips and fractures, and what did I have but empty hands? No needle, thread, or tape, just skinny fingers to try and smush together pieces that were too worn down to fit right.
"What are you thinking?"
I wanted to tell him that I saw him. I needed to pull back my skin and let him watch my heart struggle to hammer out the same discorded melody. The darned thing wouldn't let me speak up though. I was as silent as snow before an avalanche, and as smothered as if I were already under one. How can I fix this? How can I save you? How can I give everything that someone like you deserves? Looking into his eyes, I caught a shimmer of innocence that made my eyes water.
"It's okay."
He squeezed me because my tears were deceptive. He thought that I was sorry for him.
Inside, I was burning.