Invisible

SIGHTLESS

I slit my side once, put the razor back. Not as if it hurts anymore. I’d rather have cuts all over my body than feel like I have no control over myself.

That’s what I need more than anything.

I would cut even more, can have control over this as much as I want. But no, I won’t. Even through everyone’s blind eyes, too many scars are visible.

I had to learn that the hard way.

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I stop writing, look out of the window next to my bed.

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The neighborhood seems quiet. There are some neighbors outside, old and new, none I recognize. Someone mowing their lawn across the street, someone walking their dog, someone just standing across the street, staring at my house, my window. Blue eyes burning me, long brown hair turning me inside out. Someone I’ve seen, but won’t let myself remember.

I do remember and I won’t can’t act like I’m going to forget. It’s useless to remember, I know, but... how can someone forget someone like him? 

I look away from him, regret surfacing. It’s also useless to regret ever being with him. Best two years out of my life.

I feel him stare at me, his eyes a blade that cuts me open, weeds me out. I wonder if they can see anything… Then again, if they can, he probably would have done something by now.

I cut my eyes at him. He’s in my front yard now… They’re in my front yard. He’s with

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