The look in my eyes

You see the empty look in my eyes, but not the wrath that goes on behind them.
All my thoughts, emotions... All piled up, all stuck like you are in a traffic jam.
You see my wounded hands, but not the battles that I fought.
You are blind for the times that I stood there, blind for my pain, which I have a lot.
You see the tear rolling over my cheek, landing upon your shoulder.
But you don't know that feeling of "why couldn’t I tell her".
You look at my scars and have that wondering look in your eyes.
Like I don't want to tell you how I got them, like all I tell you are lies.
How could you understand my marks, given to me by the things I have done.
These wounds are obtained at moments when I fought back, at moments I had to run.
You can see my tears, you can see the scar.
I hold you so close, yet you feel so far.
I trust you to see my greatest pain and my deepest desires.
But is it, that you still see me as one of those liars...
I do not seek glory.
All I want to do so desperately... Is to tell you my story.