he said in some fragment of history
that I looked up at him
with my big blue eyes
but these eyes
in all of fragmented history
have never been blue

once they were hazel green
soft like tender ferns unfurling on forest beds
deep meadows of moss blanketing hillsides
inviting and comforting
even to my own reflection

once they were flecked with stars
overflowing with bright galaxies
destined for something great, marvelous and exotic
charming and swirling with potential
sparkling through my eyelids as I slept
casting shadow plays of future so bright

once they were golden amber
pure and shimmering honey dripping desire
sunshine’s rays swirling with heart palpitations
pooling rich unrequited love
sharing gaze with eyes of brown
oblivious and naive to the harm impending

once they were red with hatred’s fire
flames shimmering in my pupils
hellfire dancing within my corneas
scorned, abandoned, burned, and bruised
orbs glowing red hot damaging retinas
searing my skull with infernous rage
betrayed, belittled, damaged, and hurt

now they are solomn slate grey
sealed with self-forged lock and key
reflecting only reel snippets of permisible scenes
barred windows locked tight with steel
my own gated community, this soul is closed
mirrors scarred by brown eyes of fragmented history
metal file cabinets, where life and hopes are slipped away

she said in this eternal moment in history
that I looked up at her
with my big grey eyes
but these eyes
in this eternal moment in history
they will always be grey

© Graveyard Grace