You’re a drug…you are my drug. I feign for you, but I’ve never had you. I look into your eyes and get a hit, but then I yearn for you more. I resist the temptation to stare into your eyes for too long for fear of overdosing on your love spell.
You eyes. The way you look at me makes me feel like a little girl. Your eyes overpower me, take me over. I’m weak to your love spell; I can’t overcome it. I begin to blush, lose my words, shy away…it’s like I forget the strong, independent, dominant woman I am and revert back to the shy me—the vulnerable me. The real me.
Your eyes have a way of instantly stripping away the façade, the cover, the shield that I’ve placed over me to hide the real me. Your eyes see right through the tough Brooke Alexandria and see little Brookie. You see me, and it scares me. We both know you’re seeing the real me, but we react very differently to her. I immediately retreat and grasp desperately for a blanket or cover in order to mask this seemingly undesirable person. However, you do the opposite. The fact that you know you’re seeing the real me draws you closer, makes you want more, makes you feel significant, dominant. The more you desire, the deeper your eyes search. The deeper your eyes search, the more of me I reveal. Not purposefully, but helplessly. I have no power against your weapon. And although I feel exposed and vulnerable, there’s a part of me that's excited. That little girl has been dying to come out, dying to see the light, dying to explore. But she’s been hidden by years of lack of self worth and a wealth of pain. The pain and insecurity built a fortress that somehow you’re able to destroy. You’ve got a hold of me and that scares me, because that makes you powerful. A powerful drug—I deny you and desire you at the same time. You make me hurt so good!