What do your eyes see?

I can see well with my eyes,

Captive in their dreadful sockets. Unaware of the existence of the other.

Desperately taking in all they can, in their hunger –

A gentle ray of sunlight passes through my lenses,

The sun and I are both alive and well.

I am aware of the softly beating heart inside of me

That I often think of, and sometimes long for, but do not entirely miss.

But I like this newer version of me.

A paranoid android. Waltzing at 84 bpm,

A brain that does not work, a slab of odd chemicals and meat. A voice that cracks more often,

Fingers that can't strum the guitar the way they could before.

Proximity. The reason why

My hands shake, and the metal strings pass through my fingers

Like dandelions on a windswept field,

A soft breeze on an anxious night, or a dreamy Thursday afternoon.

My eyes are afraid of meeting yours.
Afraid of peering into your skull,

Have these lights twist and bend, to my horror, and illuminate the outlines of

An infinitely flawed version of me –

Bones and Flesh.

There's an endless space inside of your eyes,

Vast. Like a magnificent ocean.

I am paralysed. Waves crashing onto me.

I am drowning.

When you are not looking.

Fahad is bad at expressing his thoughts. Send him tips at www.instagram.com/fvehed/