He always loved her eyes
They used to shine so bright
He always stared at them
They were green, which reminded him of the forest
The forest that burned
And every time he looks at her eyes,
Those green forests,
He has to do something later
Set them on fire.
So he burns his thighs
Just wanting her eyes
To look at his
The way his looks at hers
++
Hey I'm proud because the picture in the box I took holla
YOU ARE READING
astronomy•poetry
Poetrythese poems are for the lonely, forgotten, the lost poets at three am, and everyone else in between cover credit: -sidjenkins
