Tell me in which disillusioned state
could I've felt so low and desperate to churn
the waves of my troubles
like adding liquor to a flame, hoping for
something sweeter.

Nonetheless all still burning, withering
perplexed, shocked colors, bruises held
a personal lake of fire
Wilting, trying to hold on,
of wanton faith in unconditional surrender

My heart, resonating the troubles from my soul
from neglect through and through
had I realized in its absence
was the duty to myself.

Heavy of holding mirrors that pointed towards your the sun,
I sat still beneath its encoffined shadow.

This must be the lingering breaths of an eclipsed moon.

Like pearls,
glazed with feigned indifference.

Lessons learned, turned remedial -
the man I thought I was, wished to be
now
wanting to run, hide.

Emotions vexed, in disbelief
Flat irises, venomed lips, cold shouldered still.

Was it all worth the guilt?
Our sin?

Your eyes are still everything to me:
whether bright or hazed,

Through any color, nuance and shade
weathered expression or freshly made,

Your eyes are the pools I'm in,
the very world that you can't peer through
or see within.