I question why this always happens. I am wide awake at three in the morning dreading sleep, as usual. A part of me hates feeling useless, especially to people who mean so much to me. The other part of me is used to it.
It seems sad to say, but I look forward to the heartache. I have become so comfortable with being in pain. Sad eyes look best on me.
We fall into those eyes as if that was the one thing to save us. As if the outline of red that layers around our face can go unnoticed. Tears are no longer falling, but the residue of salt still lingers. Constantly looking tired and hiding behind that.
Who caused your sad eyes? Was it a memory of something gone? Was it waiting to happen, like a brick crumbling under pressure?
Sad eyes, where did you go when I needed you the most?
Why does this always happen? I am awake at three am, hoping for answers.