Eyes

Eyes. Eyes that look into the soul, something she struggles with feeling. The soul... Yet as much as she eats, she finds nothing changes. It stirs no emotions, but now it leaves a bitter taste of regret. Not for the bearer of said eyes, never about that. Regret for the feeling she wished to have that everyone seemed to share so beautifully with the world. Maybe it was because every time she closed her own, she saw the eyes of all her flock staring back, that she'd never see again. Regret. Bitter cold regret.