Stuck in the middle with you

I love to stare at people. It puts them in a difficult, uncomfortable place in the world surrounding them. Everyone is aware of the presence of another. Sometimes you glance their way; sometimes you double glance; sometimes you stare. You stare to consume and grasp as much information as possible. You see, read, learn, and analyze every detail. You seek knowledge in their eyes, their lips, their demeanor, their body movements, and anything that gives off an indication of information. Last night, I glanced at you. I couldn't look into your brown sensitive eyes. I knew of your wrongdoing; I could see it with my own two. You didn't even want to look at my own two. You squinted your eyes smaller, so we can all seem like a blur. The sight of smoke rose from your denim jacket, like smoke rising from a hot flame in the beginning of January. It was January and you were burning like a hot flame as we stood beside each other saying our goodbyes. "Ya, you're leaving?" brown eyes asked. "Yeah, I've got to go. School starts next week, ya," brown eyes replied. It was my decision to come this late at night. My glance turned into a double glance. I was waiting for the right moment in time and in conversation to make my exit. Brown eyes wasn't on my level. I should've stopped by while the sun was still out. It would only have helped my odds out. I could've left on a good note; I could've left with a genuine smile. I left and smiled, but the smile wasn't for me. It was for someone stronger than me who never saw moments like these. It was for her, glowing in her angelic bliss. She loved me, but she didn't know. She couldn't understand why the pins were piercing my aorta. She could never tell in those two brown sensitive eyes. When I smiled, I made sure you saw it. I had to force it because it hurt. Now, I was staring. "See you in a while crocidile" another brown eyes called out as the door shut. Still I'm consuming every detail, watching every final step, and analyzing every movement of our last goodbye. The words you stumbled to articulate. The riddles you failed to share. The savvy you failed to attain. It hurt, but it felt good to see that it didn't hurt as bad as I thought it would. It was good to see you like so. It was the best thing I could ever see. My pain is my power. It puts power where you wish it hadn't. It puts faith in me that you won't see but you will feel when you glance into my brown eyes. So, brown eyes don't be afraid of my own two. My own two feel and see pain just like you. If my brown eyes don't bring you comfort, gain comfort in the other brown eyes that said goodbye to you. He'll work miracles sooner or later, Aligator.