It's 4am and after all the words, all the pain, all the tears, there are a million things to think about. But I can only think about her eyes.
I spent so much time trying to decipher the color of her eyes. Chameleon eyes is what I always thought to myself. Always adjusting to little things, like the falling sun into the shade of the night. I should have recognized that color from the moment I saw them. They were the color of imminent heartache. But like car wrecks and love letters, I couldn’t turn away. What’s worse, I stared right back.
Her questions seemed innocent, feeling me out
My answers weren’t right, filling me in
Not with burning sorrow of failed love
but with cold pain of love never tried
Like a grounded dove sensing a storm
too afraid to fly
No comments:
Post a Comment