Don't look me in the eyes.
I can't let you see what's inside them.
I can't bear eye contact.

I'm afraid of what you could see in them,
I'm afraid you'd see my thoughts through them,
I'm afraid you'll understand everything through my eyes.
Understanding it... while I struggle with it.

Exceptions exists. I know it's mostly in my head.

But the saying that eyes are a window to the soul...
It's true, in its way. It scares me.
Some eyes you should've never met.
Some eyes have watched you without you being aware.

Don't look at my face, don't try to read me. I won't let you.
I don't want you to see something I can't see myself.

If you gaze in the abyss, it gazes back into you.
While you look from the spotlight, shadows see you clearly, invisible to you.

Their eyes don't glow. You don't see shiny circles.

Don't look at me that way. I'm sorry I can't look you in the eyes, but I assure you I'm paying attention. More than most.

Their eyes don't glow. Shiny beads  replaced by holes in reality.
Light absorbing, cold and unnatural eyes.
Everything that was once human in those eyes is long dead.

What if that's what you see in mine? Far behind the color: a coldness, silence of the mind, something... wrong.

Don't look at their eyes. You'll catch their attention.

Some of them are walking past you. A small gaze five centimeters to your left and you'd never have forgotten them. Inhuman. Cold. Wondering without empathy what it would feel like to kill you in the slowest and most horrible ways possible.

What it would fee like to drag you down in the abyss.

I can't look in your eyes.
I seem timid, anxious, hiding something.
If I am, I don't know it.
But don't cross my eyes.
Maybe they hide my true thoughts.

I don't want you to spoil them for me.