"heterochromia" poems
• grape gatorade
• baby powder engraved earrings
• glow sticks
• the smell of old holy pages
• peach cobbler
• complement circles
• heterochromia
• crazy hair
• wet clothes
• dr pepper
• cold rain against the humid air
• glances people steal
(j.a.r.)
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 10:43 PM UTC
Few dared to date Medusa,
For they feared being covered with contusions.
Those who did wore a blindfold to hide their eyes,
A blind date with fate and a disguise.
One of the braver men,
Who thought he could apprehend,
Medusa, his name was Trent.
He didn’t last long,
He took his blindfold off,
And like many before him,
He turned to stone and wasn’t heard from again.
Another challenger’s name was Wren,
Like the bird,
Medusa thought that was the strangest name she’d heard.
So, out of spite,
She reached across the table and exposed Wren’s eyes.
He gasped as his skin turned coarse,
Mouth open wider than a horse.
Medusa pushed him over,
Watched as he shattered,
And smiled to herself,
Even though she was lonelier than anyone else.
Medusa didn’t mean to be so cruel,
It was the consequences of her being used.
By a man to do things she didn’t want to do,
Unspeakable and terrible abuse,
She was the only one to lose.
So, she became a viper,
Her gaze became a noose.
Asphyxiation,
Righteous indignation.
She wouldn’t let herself be used again.
Finally, a man named Hunter arrived,
He tightened the blindfold around his eyes.
He sat across from Medusa, the table lit by candlelight,
She blushed, for he was quite a sight.
He reached across the table and shook her hand,
And he asked her if she had any plans.
She was taken aback, her mind rolling off the tracks,
Lost in a flashback, she babbled about tasks she had to do,
None of which was true.
Hunter laughed, a sound so sweet,
It made Medusa nearly fall out of her seat.
Was this the one she had been searching for?
Or was he just another liar?
Authenticity tends to hide,
Just like the scars Medusa had on her thighs.
One of her snakes whispered in her ear,
Advising her to ignore what she wanted to hear.
The snakes only wanted what was best,
But for whom? What was the purpose of their quest?
Hours passed by like comets,
First date turned into many happy moments.
Before Medusa could catch her breath,
Half a year had passed,
And Hunter had asked,
To see Medusa’s face.
She insisted that he didn’t,
But she knew he wouldn’t listen.
He lowered the blindfold,
As teardrops glistened,
Medusa thought she had just lost,
Her heart…
Hunter had heterochromia,
Left eye green, right eye a shimmering blue.
Medusa’s eyes were both red,
That pulsated in blossoming hues.
To both of their surprise,
Hunter didn’t turn to stone.
He captured her lips in a kiss,
Both of them were alone.
Medusa found the one who could see her,
She no longer had to hide.
Hunter loved Medusa,
It made her cry.
The world is filled with hurt people, like Medusa,
Who may push you away and leave you in contusions.
But underneath that deadly gaze,
Is a mountain of pain…
Sep 17, 2025
Sep 17, 2025 at 10:14 PM UTC
my father is a fortified man
with dark, verdant eyes
that shame the forest moss
that burn harsh and cold
seeing through deception
honest, stern, but fair
my mother is a gentle woman
with soft, cerulean eyes
that transcend the clearest sea
that glow bright and warm
always saying the right thing
tolerant, caring, but unwavering
and I was born with that azure gaze
though mine is not same
on half my left eye
a drop of my father's jade
and so I see the world
as an even balance
through both my parents eyes
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 8:27 AM UTC
*Blue eyes on a clear day.
Bluer when the sun hits just right.
I've seen her eyes the bluest when the kid in the red shirt showed up.
Her eyes locked and practically green.
A color on her I've never seen.
Like the seasons changed, so did her eyes.
Eyes so far from the blue skies that once drew me to her.
Jealously struck.
She became a monster.
Green eyed distraught.
I might have lost her.*
**Green eyed distraught when it's pouring outside and your sky tells no secrets.
Your petrifying skies that force me on my hands and knees until they bleed screaming
"SKY, WHY DOES HE THINK MY EYES ARE GREEN?"
Seemingly colorblind after he struck me with his lightning,
radiating me with yellows, blues, and pinks
and I'm sorry that I'm still dead and cold after everything.
He wore the wrong color.
Shirts as red as the passion he had only for blood.
As red as the stop signs that I will not let keep me from moving forward.
Deciding to run some place warmer.
Writing you a letter on a purple piece of paper.
Where the sun hits just right.
Signing it, "Sincerely, Your Darling Little Monster."**
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 10:51 AM UTC
Like butterfly wings, her eyes,
Flapping.
Every blink a gust.
Every thread a hue.
Searching for scents,
A new flower or two.
Or
Just one.
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 2:29 AM UTC
*Blue eyes on a clear day.
Bluer when the sun hits just right.
I've seen her eyes the bluest when the kid in the red shirt showed up.
Her eyes locked and practically green.
A color on her I've never seen.
Like the seasons changed, so did her eyes.
Eyes so far from the blue skies that once drew me to her.
Jealously struck.
She became a monster.
Green eyed distraught.
I might have lost her.*
**Green eyed distraught when it's pouring outside and your sky tells no secrets.
Your petrifying skies that force me on my hands and knees until they bleed screaming
"SKY, WHY DOES HE THINK MY EYES ARE GREEN?"
Seemingly colorblind after he struck me with his lightning,
radiating me with yellows, blues, and pinks
and I'm sorry that I'm still dead and cold after everything.
He wore the wrong color.
Shirts as red as the passion he had only for blood.
As red as the stop signs that I will not let keep me from moving forward.
Deciding to run some place warmer.
Writing you a letter on a purple piece of paper.
Where the sun hits just right.
Signing it, "Sincerely, Your Darling Little Monster."**
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 1:27 PM UTC
I don’t know why I keep coming down here
Into the dark abyss of these tunnels.
It’s like something’s calling out to me
Guiding my feet without my permission
Like I’m just along for the ride.
Water drips down from the lower level of the 82nd street station—
Downtown B and C train.
I’m in a cave with dripping stalactites
But instead of awe and wonder
All I’m bracing myself for
Is absolute collapse.
The train roars in
Ba Dum Ba Dum Ba Dum
Slowly making its way to a stop
With a whine of its wheels locking into place
And a screech of the doors opening, protesting all the way.
I know I shouldn’t get inside
Should walk the twenty blocks
In sub-zero temperatures
Where at least the light will shine—
But something beckons me from the darkness.
As the train slowly begins to move
I see the red and blue lights waiting, watching, outside the window
The apparent heterochromia of the monster that lives and breathes and is these tunnels.
I’m suddenly sure that I’ll never return.
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 10:53 PM UTC
i drove so fast.
i drove so fast and yawned the entire time.
it was the adrenaline after packing too fast
and crying because it was working out for me to see you.
i ate too fast.
i sat at my mom's kitchen table trying to catch my breath
it was the comfort of hearing her voice again
as warm as the tea i drank too much of before going to bed.
i ran too fast.
i ran too fast after sleeping in and burning the coffee
it was the assurance of only living down the street
and the surprise of you being discharged early.
i stumbled into the first floor of the lobby
i hurried up the stairway
i whirled around
and the second i met your eyes in the elevator i realized
i would have crawled.
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 7:26 PM UTC
Phosphorescent banners placed at sea,
Maybe it is for you to see,
Dredging efforts for your sentimentality.
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 11:32 PM UTC
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱, I say
Mysterious depths existing beyond my comprehension
𝘚𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, I say
Words lost in the roar of hypnotic blue, green, grey
𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, I say
Rendered defenseless by its magnitude
Adrift, I surrender to the pull of the current
Whether I am made immortal within the waves
Or am cast broken upon the shore
The ecstasy of my soul is a 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪
Sep 3, 2024
Sep 3, 2024 at 5:59 PM UTC
as you look out the window with your deep set eyes you tell me how you think the earth's breathing if you focused enough.
ironically enough I've always seen that.
pretty broken doll tell your jokes and stories once more so I could draw another smile on my face.
teach me how you do it... Wait I think I've been doing it myself for too long.
I tell you to play me something on the drums you so angrily enchant.
Play me something so the vibration coming off the drums would wake me up again.
I sit down on the always broken bench waiting for you to sit next to me.
But you always stay behind hands on the bench almost wanting to take the bench away.
I wish I wouldn't have to look up as you speak.
"could you be my lookout this summer?"
"I would sure if I'm still here"
the pretty lines on your jaw drop as you think it through
I'm leaving honey, what does it mean to you?
"you can't, you need to stay here for me just one more year"
I tell you I can't though I'd like to tell you that I would love to stay one more year just to come back everyday for you to tell me what cracked you up and what broke you down.
I'd stay so maybe one day our eyes would be allowed to look at eachother.
but i tell you I can't because there's no way I could
and as I say it I'd like to shed a tear but I've trained myself to well
As I say it I look up once more to see the pretty lines get sharper almost like they've accepted.
Trust you trust me don't you?
With your love interest, music taste, sexuality, drugs and life stories
As the bell rings we hide behind questions.
Are we both afraid of the same thing?
Couldn't be right?
You're wanted I'm not.
_Correction_
I want you, you don't.
Bad influence
It's you who made me want to turn my guts upside down for a drop of the same hallucinating I have every night in my dreams.
But it's you who gives me hope and despair.
Soft spoken we'll never be close to that.
_Concave destroyed lover_
I can't compare.
Do you feel these things anymore or have you given them up to the overdose?
Would you laugh at my sloppy poetry and prose?
You probably would.
_Senseless *******
You know fixing you is a desire of mine
But humans can't get fixed love
Not by individuals at least.
And everyday as I tell you your eyes are beautiful for their central heterochromia
Everyday as you don't believe it so I need to make up another description.
I'll enjoy it and know that you're well enough.
I'm probably inexsitent in your mutilated brain
Since our worlds are far apart
But honey we're separetely the same.
We just never made contact.
And now I know as I saw the tears curdle up in your eyes
That maybe just maybe you're not as lost as I thought you'd be.
Feb 25, 2019
Feb 25, 2019 at 11:43 AM UTC
I see the same eyes
a father, a daughter
in one grows hatred
in the other, love fostered
I look to the Moon
and often I ponder
how could an angel
be made from a monster
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 12:29 PM UTC
The bus stop is empty
again.
A gust of wind blows my hair across my eyes
"Quite cold out isn't it?"
I jump.
"Sorry, did I startle you?"
His eyes are blue.
No, one is brown.
He has heterochromia.
"No- um, I didn't see you,
Yeah, I suppose it is a bit cold"
He glances at my scrubs,
"Where are you headed this early?"
I give him a look.
“The hospital…”
He smirks.
"Isn't that your bus then."
A bus pulls out the stop
and speeds away
Wait-
"Oh shoot that is my bus!"
The stranger laughs,
his eyes crinkle at the sides.
"Well here’s my bus,
so I guess this is goodbye"
I sigh.
“Bye then.”
Pretty eyes.
Aug 18, 2025
Aug 18, 2025 at 12:53 PM UTC