I think that's just the thing about eyes—
You can feel them when they're on you and you can feel them when you wish they were.
I have you in the very palms of my broken hands
And you do everything but slip away.
You fight to remain in my sights
Even when I needed you to fly away.
I needed a little bit of distance
But you never quite left me alone.
I found each fragmented piece of you in eyes that weren't yours
And in faces I didn't recognize.
And I loved it when they saw me
Because its something you never did—
Saw me, I mean.
But perhaps it was me who was in the wrong
Because perhaps you noticed much more than you let on.
I'd like to think that you pretend well and that I listen well
I didn't quite hear what you never said.
But now, standing face to face, you bring your being closer to mine
But its already too late, you're out of time
because I'm not yours and you're not mine
Yet here you are in my broken hands.
I tried to push you far away, but the thing about you is that you have a mind of your own
You're stubborn.
You fight for what you want— at least that's what I'd like to think.
But its already too late, you're out of time
because I'm not yours and you're not mine.
YOU ARE READING
WAVES: A Book of Poems
ŞiirLife is like a cycle and we are in constant motion. We are like the water- high tide and low tide. We rise, we fall and we evaporate. We are the ocean, we are the sea we are the rivers and all that lies beneath. Copyright © 2017 Marlee John. All...
