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DaisiesaregoodPoems
I inherited my eyes from my mother. They’re dark, heavy with what never arrived, wrapped in thick ropes of fear, suffocated by narrow borders— still, there’s a flicker of light. Like hers, I drown in my own survival, every night closing with the hope that something beautiful could happen, only to open to uncertain mornings. Anger, untamed, waits beneath my words. Still, I stay soft in cruel times, sharing my heart with those who couldn’t hold it. How I wish I could see the world through my father’s eyes— his hazel ones... I tried to see it his way. But my eyes were fixed on a single point— the cigarette packet and the ashtray on the table. Then the smoke filled my vision, clouding my anxious mind. I couldn’t speak. And I thought: “It’s better to leave some things unsaid than to be right, if every word we speak unravels a fragile home, leaving a scar.” I inherited my tears from both sides. You can mix brown and hazel and still get white— colorless drops that keep me warm and remind me I’m still alive.
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Apr 17
Apr 17, 2026 at 1:23 PM UTC
Inherited Vision
I inherited my eyes from my mother. They’re dark, heavy with what never arrived, wrapped in thick ropes of fear, suffocated by narrow borders— still, there’s a flicker of light. Like hers, I drown in my own survival, every night closing with the hope that something beautiful could happen, only to open to uncertain mornings. Anger, untamed, waits beneath my words. Still, I stay soft in cruel times, sharing my heart with those who couldn’t hold it. How I wish I could see the world through my father’s eyes— his hazel ones... I tried to see it his way. But my eyes were fixed on a single point— the cigarette packet and the ashtray on the table. Then the smoke filled my vision, clouding my anxious mind. I couldn’t speak. And I thought: “It’s better to leave some things unsaid than to be right, if every word we speak unravels a fragile home, leaving a scar.” I inherited my tears from both sides. You can mix brown and hazel and still get white— colorless drops that keep me warm and remind me I’m still alive.
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#family#identity#selfreflection#personalpoetry#grief#poetry
Daisiesaregood
Written by
Daisiesaregood
30/F
Apr 17
Apr 17, 2026 at 1:23 PM UTC
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