My eyes had a way of changing color, grey to green, depending on pain
He had a way of inspiring the spectrum by the way he withheld his heart,
A varied action
Dependent only on the day
And had nothing to do with me
It felt personal though, it always feels personal when hearts get involved
Hearts and their agendas
I gave up on my dreams of us being any of the scripts I craved but
I'd still held purpose in love transforming his loss
Selfish or selfless,
Agenda's agenda
I'll go on loving him because with love like this it's the only option I've got
But I'll do it agenda less
Perhaps my eyes can find a terminal balance
Hazel Grace