I wish we knew,
but we could not see—
not ourselves, not the way others saw us.
We reached for hands,
then pulled away,
chasing the reflections we hoped they'd find.
We wanted to be seen,
not just looked at.
We wanted to be known,
but did we know ourselves?
We ran, we fell, we broke,
yet the eyes around us never left.
Still, we wondered—
were we their image, or our own?
Some lose their sight,
some close their eyes.
Yet eyes always watch,
even when they stray.
We let each other go,
not because love faded,
but because love knows
when to witness,
and when to let go.
And so we walk away,
not lost, not abandoned,
but searching for the sight
that is truly ours.
For in the end,
we are all just reflections,
longing to be real.
And here are eye.
Rodeyo
