Look into My Eyes

I miss it when my eyes grow cold.
When I look straight into the soul of a person and they just know.
There's a darkness in me that I try to hide.
But tonight it's growing into something I don't want to fight.

I didn't intend for this to become anything resembling a poem.
But when this darkness creeps to the top,
I think my I.Q. jumps up a few points.
Everything I need to say comes out.
Even things that I don't want to let out come out.

I think about that room lit only by candles.
The bed against the wall,
with her lying in it.
Waiting for me.
Some kind of music playing that fits the dark mood.
Something slow and melancholy.
Something with a deeper meaning than most listeners ever understand.

And I miss it when she was afraid of me.
She wasn't afraid for any reason in particular.
Not for any reason any of you reading this would think.
It's all in my eyes.
It happens when I get this way.
And when people see it, they get afraid.

...

Lies.
It was always lies.