Eyes of a Writer

Monsters are real. I saw them in his eyes. I knew he was like me, a writer, as soon as I saw the monsters hidden in his dark brown eyes. Only a writer could keep monsters in their head and smile like they were normal. His eyes promised danger and safety. I always got lost in his dark brown eyes, watching the monsters dance, and listening to them whisper such beautiful things to him. Things I so desperately wanted to hear, but I have my own monsters whispering to me.


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