Uh, uh, some deep shit, uh, uh
Momma please stop cryin, I can't stand the sound
Your pain is painful and its tearin' me down
I hear glasses breakin as I sit up in my bed
I told dad you didn't mean those nasty things you
said
You fight about money, bout me and my sister
And this I come home to, this is my shelter
It ain't easy growin up in World War III
Never knowin what love could be, you'll see
I don't want love to destroy me like it has done
my family
Can we work it out? Can we be a family?
I promise I'll be better, Mommy I'll do anything
Can we work it out? Can we be a family?
I promise I'll be better, Daddy please don't leave
-
Axel
My mother had the kindest eyes.
The kindest green eyes I had ever looked into.
They were a sharp emerald green color, green as spring grass, sparkling like dew in the morning sun. They were bright as fresh and lively, and I remember as I child that when I looked into my mother's eyes, I found myself drifting off into another universe; above the skies, below the grounds. Her skin was always cold, but her eyes were the warmest.
Before she stopped loving me.
The day my mother chose the drink over me, her eyes lost their color. They no longer remained green, they no longer remained kind, and they no longer remained gentle. They became a reflection of my father's eyes; hard, piercing, sharp, unloving.
The day my mother stopped loving me, her eyes lost their warmth.
A lot of things haunted me in my nightmares.
The smell of my father's heavy cigarettes would be suffocating me in a closed room, a prisoner of my own mind rather than one of a concentration camp. The sound of my mother's wails would be echoing in my ears and I would be screaming for the voices to stop, but they would keep getting louder and louder, until I couldn't hear anything but them. A picture of Abby getting injured would conjure in my head and my heart would well up in so much I was sure it was going to shatter into pieces and I would never be able to put it back together.
But nothing,
Nothing haunted me in the world like those green eyes.
I saw them every day. I saw them every day when I looked at my sister. I saw them every day when I looked in the mirror. They were always there. My mother's green eyes were everywhere, all the time.
His eyes reminded me of my mothers.
Soft, green, gentle, warm.
His eyes were unusually beautiful. Green gardens which transported me to another universe, gardens which I could explore forever without ever getting tired. His eyes looked back into mine unafraid, as if they were meant to clash with mine, a connection between irises. They were swirling, tiny cyclones in those globes which looked so utterly miraculous, I was almost willing to be believe galaxies would bow down to them.
And after a long time, I felt something wonderful blossom in my chest, like a young flower which had been given another chance to sprout again, to start a fresh. For just the smallest of moments, I felt like I was a happy child again, before my life had been stolen from me, before I had lost the warmth that came from my mother's eyes.
YOU ARE READING
The Delivery Boy(boyxboy)
Romance"I know you and I are not about poems or other sentimental bullshit, but I have to tell you that even the way you drink coffee knocks me the fuck out." - Axel Clark has responsibilities. After his father left and his mother became an alcohol...
