I used to think blue eyes were pretty,
his were not.
his were not cornflower, sapphire, baby, indigo, azure,
or cloudy sky blue.
His were midnight where the light pollution from the city blocks the stars.
Iceberg, squall, hypothermia, eventual death

did you know
i dreamed of you
almost every night?

dreamed of chasing you,
begging you,
an almost pathetic longing

for years and years
until i finally
fell out of love with you.

i still dream of you
once in awhile,

but it's not me
giving chase anymore,

it's you.

Happy families, smiling,
enjoying time together,
atmosphere filled with their laughter.

And then -

in a moment of madness,
all silenced.

Bullets took over,
dead bodies lying all around.

Terror strikes the land
we call "Paradise on Earth."

I am wilted. I am weary.
I am weathered. I am worn.
I am stuffed with seeping sadness, and stewed in sticky, seething scorn.

I am deflated. Thoughts debunked.
And I am drowned in desperate dread.  
When I soak my roots in water, I find it dries them out instead.

I am wilted. I am weary.
I am wilted. I am worn.

Some days, I smile and I don’t know why,
Other days, I sit and just let time slide by.
Coffee gets cold, texts go unread,
Thoughts spinning circles inside my head.

Some days, I win little fights with my doubt,
Other days, I barely crawl out.
But I breathe, I try, I take one more stride
And that, for today, is enough on my side.