March 13th

Dear Diary,

My mother has cold eyes. Cold, dead, icy eyes. They pierce through my heart and make me lose any happiness I had left. It took me so long to realize what that feeling was, but it was because of her.

      Honestly, her constant visits make me feel worse. Most people would be stoked to see their mother after isolation. But my mother seeing me in an insane asylum just reminds of the fact that she didn't want me. That there's something wrong with me.

     Her eyes are not a mother's eyes. Her eyes are are the eyes of a dictator, and the eyes of a captor. Her eyes are a torture method.

     Eyes are the windows to the soul. Eyes are the border of your stars and the real world. When that border is broken, you feel that icy or warm feeling that is the essence of the person.

     Yes, this is not a star. But it is of the mind.

Sincerely,
Emma