His eyes are blue not the kind of ocean Blue ,
but the blue of a storm.
I always hated the storms but with Him his eyes .
They are not the blue you fear.
They're the kinda reassuring blue.
His eyes are like a beautiful storm.
A storm you don't care to get caught up in.
It's not cold there.
It's also not warm.
They share a Mystery,
a Mystery you feel compelled to solve.
There not so revealing,
They hide a lot from the world.
It's hard to solve.
Like a door closed and locked down. That's How he is,
not so much that you can't understand him.
Just enough to keep people out.
With me his eyes were warm.
When he looks at me it's like the storm disappears.
A storm so unknown to a child.
His eyes so friendly and so forgiving.
He took my hand and dragged me in.
I let him drag me in without a care.
He made me alive.
But as if it was all just a facade the storm comes back ,
takes control he leaves me behind with his stormy blue eyes.
The eyes that I had fallen so deep in that the storm consumed me.
Not that I minded the storm.
It was so captivating and so real.
I now forget how to get out.
And now just right now
I don't want to get out I just want to stay here in his beautiful disastrous storm.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts Unsaid
ПоэзияThese poems are the things I hold in and wait to write, They are the thoughts that are unsaid. - I hope you can enjoy these and read them through a new light, I'm not a writer officially but this is a dream of mine. Any support given is very much...
