i see us

I see you.
I see your eyes.
I see your expression.

I see you hurt.

I see me.
I see my hands.
Painter’s hands.
Musician’s hands.
Long and thin.
They were supposed to decide my future.
But I’m none of those things.
I’m a writer.

I see my hands reach out to you.
Long and thin and cold.
“I can help you,” I say.

But you turn your head.

I see you.
I see your eyes.
I see your expression.

I see the way you want someone to save you.

I see me.
I see my eyes.
I see my blue eyes.
I watch them run.
I watch them clear.
I watch them blue.
I watch them ocean.
I watch them as they speak out to me,
“You know, who you’re SUPPOSED to be.”

I see us both.
Together.