When our eyes met

 it was magic

And I've been wishing

that you would look again.

But I can't stop thinking

our eyes met.

And you paused a moment,

I held my breath.

I'm not dumb, 

you're too smart.

But I can't stop loving you

without stopping my heart.

And when our eyes met

it was pure magic

and my heart skipped

then you looked away.

--Eli. McCoy

A friend of mine wrote this. She didn't have the nerve to publish it herself, so I kind of stole it from her. I thought it was really sweet, don't you?

And darkness clung to the earth. To her earth. Her world. Nothing penetrated her darkness. Not a pin-prick of light. Not a breath in the dark, heavy air. And at first this was all there was. The stillness and the quiet were complete. Then one day there was a small, almost imperceptible, hum. She strained to hear and it began to grow. Another pitch added and she rejoiced in the change. In the wonder of something new. But as she continued to listen another pitch was added and another and another. The sound was beginning to fill up the entire darkness. She could feel herself vibrating, her insides revolting, and she began to despise the sound. She cried out, but in her dark prison her voice was not heard. She covered her ears, but the sound persisted louder. It was overwhelming, even more than the silence had been. And in the darkness she was alone to bear the noise. Alone in the dark with everything suddenly spinning around her, she began thrashing about, calling for release. She strained her eyes for any hope of rescue, but the darkness was complete-- as far as she could tell. But then she felt the sound quaver and a light touch was felt on her arm. The whirring and commotion instantly stopped and the noise broke, only to start up again half a moment later. Another light breath against her face and the noise seemed to hold its breath, then once again return full strength. Then a light. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Light. Pure and true, casting out all loneliness and fear. And she stepped forward and warmed herself in it. The Saviour had found her. 

Eli. McCoy

Poem of the week.

An Awakening

And what of the crime? 

What was the wrong committed?

 Only that she thought too much of her world.

 She thought it, in fact, bigger than it was.

 O, the trauma when she finds truth.

 when she sees how her world compares to reality.

 O, the tragedy that she is to forebear

 until she finally learns:

 Unblinking eyes, callous ears, and hard heart.

For that is what is needed. 

To feel nothing is necessary. 

She may not see it now, but soon she will learn. 

 The greatest human fallacy that is called trust.

 To give it is weakness, and to deserve it, not possible.

 For there is no one to be trusted, no one.

 O, the pain she is to forebear

 until she finally learns:

 Unblinking eyes, callous ears, and hard heart.  

And until she learns, until she sees 

Reality is not. It simply is not. 

For what is real? What is truth?

 Is there truth? Is there fallacy? Is there anything?

 To seek is to find, but to find is not to understand.

 For truth, though existent, is beyond your reach.

 O, beyond, beyond.

 So when will we learn?

 Unblinking eyes, callous ears, and hard heart. 

For that is what is needed.That is what is necessary. She may not see it now, but she will soon learn.She will learn of that thing called trust. It will soon be that she gives it to none.

Elizabeth McCoy

I really like this poem, and I'm feeling what it is actually saying now. Being thrown into school where I see people every day five days a week is a big adjustment. From small to large in the matter of, like, a day.