Jan 21

My Eyes

I wonder what other people see
When they look into my eyes.
Galaxies burnt into my pupils?
A fire 
Waiting to burn?
That has frozen my eyes until there's nothing left but anger?
I see
My same 
Dark brown pupils
And I see them when I look at my sister.
But I think
Mine are different
Darker maybe
Always laughing.
Or possibly always ready 
To pounce.
My eyes
Have seen things no one else has seen.
Because they are
MY eyes.
I like to think
That they tell a different story
Hidden behind the plates of glass
That are my tortoishell glasses
Peering at the world
Judging everything.
When they get fogged up
I imagine that I can't see the world at all.
It is blocked from me.
When I am looking at my world
I feel like a silent watcher
As if I am reading a book
And I will never see the ending.
So for now
My eyes will tell that story.
Their story
My story.
About the Author: NiñaEstrella
“If one cannot enjoy reading a book over and over again, there is no use in reading it at all.” ― Oscar Wilde