Eyes as Wells as Well as Windows

Sometimes I can’t handle realizing that complete strangers have lives.

I mean, think about it—

Each body you see has this big pile of life.

Sitting underneath their skin.

With baby pictures.

And childhoods.

And kisses.

And rugburns.

And goodbyes.

And grandmas.

And papercuts.

And tears.

So many tears!

Don’t you ever wonder what other people have cried about?

Someone’s out there right now,

Staring at something,

Having the saddest, most beautiful thoughts in the whole wide world.

It might even be something you were just thinking,

But it just never made it to being out loud.

And anyway—

With these strangers—

Deep, deep, far beneath their eyes

Is a swirling mass of every moment they’ve ever cried.

Their bodies

Just capsules for their swimming, screaming, explosive, scary

Life.

And it makes me ache.

Why can’t I have the time to know You? To fix You?

All the Yous that make up Thems and Wes?

The thought can break me sometimes.
Fuck, now I’m crying.


featured image by the too-beautiful-to-be-as-funny-as-she-is art and heart queen @amandalucido (yes, I gave you her insta without her permission and yes, she’s the younger sibling to artist Paul Lucido)

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