Sometimes it’s too much to look into another’s eyes.

It’s personal, like you have a vendetta against them,

A vendetta to know them.

It’s the same feeling as staring too long at the sun

Or catching fireflies in a jar.

Shaking it a little bit too hard to get them to shine nice and bright,

That childlike action all of us committed under the moon.

While playing in the dark blue grass with picnic baskets and

Blankets draped over couches and pillows

Creating forts that create castles and dungeons and new worlds

But never mansions, homes, or the mundane.

But when you see those eyes dim

Like a burnt out lightning bug that’s been shaken too hard.

You know the loss was uncontainable.

Like an army of ants forcing their way into picnic baskets and commandeering food

Or when the knights go to kill the dragon

But the pillows cascade down and those knights are just children in a house.

Your firebug can only keep their eyes shut for so long before

They open their eyes and let them bleed into the night

Like a lost sun.