Why did I trust you?
Probably because your eyes are brown, the colour of stability, and solid being.
The Back of my Conscious felt okay.
Yet I should of listened to the front of the sub-aware in me.

Why was I so scared of you?
Perhaps because your eyes are red the colour of blood, feeling of rage and dread.
The back of my head found you irresistible.
The rest of me felt you were my death.

Why didn't I listen to you years ago?
Most likely because your eyes are blue.
Such a soft vibe, lethargic and gloom.
Yet soon I was cradled by a friend, and that was you.

After I'd been impaled by nails, the eyes I doubted conformed me the most.
To doubt her very potential, because of a soft colour; if not for my friend that one night, I'd be a ghost.

I trusted the sound of softness, blinded by art; little did I acknowledge a poison dart. The brown eyed lady, promises or not, taught me to never ignore my own heart.

Not much left to be spoken.
I just fell in love with the woman bearing blood red eyes.
She told me who she was with the first half glance.

Rage, dread.
Yet passion.

Intense.

But why was I so scared of you?
When we were friends.