I used to wish mine were
green - like seafoam -
or blue - like lightning -
or grey - like my grandfather's.

It wasn't until
you told me
there was gold
- like e a r t h -
in my irises,
that I started
to believe.

(Maybe, just maybe,
there's beauty in me after all.)

I will grow
with
or without
you.

others come and go
~
you will always be permanent
~
even if you aren't mine any longer

When I was little,
I killed ants with a magnifying glass.

And now I'm big.
And I worry I'm doing the same thing with you.

Let's drive out to sea
Let's just leave, away from this routine
And those pointless struggles
We'll throw them all away ; come with me.