Your Eyes That Once Looked Like Home

Your eyes that once looked like home

Now look like weapons that killed me.

Your face that once spelled out love

Now spells out grief to me.

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You once were my cure from humanity,

Now I guess I was never meant to heal.

What once brought out the best in me,

Now brings out the poet in me.

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Your soul that once meant beauty,

Now means emptiness and vain.

Our love that once made us soulmates,

Now makes us strangers again.

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Your fictive touch, my anxious rush,

Now I know how grief feels.

Your gentle words and brittle oaths,

Now finally I let you ruin me.

The worst thing you ever did was to make me believe I could be loved

Green eyes

Green eyes more altering than the phases of the moon itself.

Warm green of honeydew when life strikes with kindness.

At crucial times, a poised snake; cautious and still.

A lurid shade of poison ivy, a secret to unveil.

A sea green touch when victorious. A glory to be held.

A lover's touch, an emerald flush. A fondness to be felt.

A steady green of summer leaves, at humour and sheer delight.

Anger darkens them cold and harsh, to the almost black of woods at night.

An endless chase of grief and despair, a helpless shade of teal.

A bleeding heel and olive green. Your eyes they haunt me still.

If life is a cold, harsh night

You are the moon that makes it bearable

For what other thing would thrive?

Even in the most monstrous forms of dark?

If to love is to rest

Then I will perceive death for you.

For what greater form of rest do we know?

Than to lie in the cold, dark earth forever?

If to long is to grieve

Then I shall make home of a funeral

For what harsher grief it is?

Than to irreversibly lose someone

Pic via pinterest

To simply exist in all her devotion.

Sometimes I want to go back and hug my younger self, and then I remember I’m still her and I’m still deserving of that love