how funny, your blue eyes

they hold so much power and conviction

they entice and they beckon

but how funny, your blue eyes

they make a mockery of themselves

for there is nothing behind your sapphire disguise

besides a man far more blue than his funny blue eyes

Iemand reikt me een hand
Als ik verstar
verdwijnt de hand opnieuw in de schaduw
Twijfelend blijf ik staan
Ik tast in het duister ..
Niets

Net als ik me omdraai
verschijnt de hand opnieuw
Deze keer neem ik ze zonder aarzelen in de mijne
En als de schaduw wegtrekt
kijk ik recht in twee hemelsblauwe ogen
en wil ik nooit meer loslaten

I remember when you used to care
When you used to talk to me
When you would acknowledge my existence
When you used to text me back
When we talked every day
When it would be not long after we saw each other again
When it mattered when I was hurt
When you would defend me
When you didn’t blow my feelings off to the side like blowing out candles on cake without a train of thought
Do you remember that?
I bet you do, but all I have left of those faint memories is photos,items and iMessages reminding me that it could’ve been true

I have seen blue Caribbean waters,
Yet nothing compares to your eyes

i want blue eyes
glistening like moon ripples on
mirrored lakes

i want blue eyes
burning like sapphire flames
in the furnace of half-baked
dreams

blue eyes
that churn glittering snow
and overflow
overshadow

blue eyes
like
liquified winter skies
dripping, seeping sorrow
wings of iridescent dragonflies
fountains in secret grottos

blue eyes
like yours
lost
            in their own ocean labyrinths
            in thought
            in other dimensions
where brown eyes
            cannot follow

sometimes i think
that maybe
if my eyes were blue
too
maybe you would

take me with you


            take me with you

eyes of ocean blue
grayed by darken skies cry rain
drown in flooding waves

My cheap thrills
may be different than your cheap thrills

My cheap thrills are looking into someone’s eyes and trying to read into their soul
Into their very existence
But eyes aren’t really windows to anything
Are they?

They are but closed doors;
Trap doors, luring you in
And showing you what you want to see
For it’s not with my eyes but the brain that I see !

But when I see him
I see him

I see him for all his beauty and kindness
He’s my blue eyed boy;

See the pun I’m making here
He actually has blue eyes
Ha ha ha
I know
I know
But he’d laugh at that !
And that’s what makes him so perfect;
Perfect to my imperfect eyes
That are merely simply tools
Trapped in the maps of projections that my brain casts over him

My cheap thrills aren’t cheap,
They require me to buy bandages
In bulk
Every time I see him kiss someone that isn’t me, I swear I know what it feels like to be the hulk!

Yes I know,
Augustus waters said
That “You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world...but you do have some say in who hurts you.”
And if my heart were to look like a ball of elastic bands except covered in band aids
I’d rather have it be this way for you : )

Eyes that are a shade of blue,
Shriek in the light when pulled into view.