I wish I could have blue eyes, always looking into the waves of your inner mind and struggle.
They know you, like a familiarity in those eyes as you struggle to keep tighter.
Eyes to make you break or heal.
Eyes that know your struggle, even when the user is just a little kid
It's like you could look into them, Eyes wide with wonder and a sense of exploration as you try to find their inner mechanisms.
But, you only get lost in those blue eyes.
I wish someone would write poems about us brown haired girls with rich eyes like the dirt.
I wish there was someone to tell me my eyes hold the rain, the soil below being grown and dotted on.
But, no. Rain is blue.
Blue is the color above us, and people love to keep their heads high for those blue eyes girls.
I wish someone would look down, seeing us for the grace and the mess we have.
To pick a handful up, scoop up the dirt and believe we are the true makers of life.
But, blue always comes first.
