Eye of the Beholder

Because in the right eyes,
you are not too much.
Not too emotional,
too bright,
too passionate,
too alive.

You are not “hard to understand.”
You are a gallery of hidden meanings,
soft shadows,
gold leaf pressed into the cracks of everything you have survived.

In the wrong hands,
you will spend years trying to shrink yourself into something easier to hold.

But in the right eyes…

you become poetry read slowly.
A favorite song played again at midnight.
A painting someone stands in front of long after the museum closes.

They will notice the details.
The way your laughter arrives half a second before your smile.
The ache beneath your kindness.
The courage it took to remain soft.

And suddenly,
all the things you once apologized for become the very things that make you unforgettable.

Because love, real love,
does not ask art to become less beautiful so it can be understood faster.

It simply steps closer.
Studies the brushstrokes.
Learns the language of color and light.
And stays.

Because in the right eyes,
you will always be art.