Her grey eyes.
Her grey eyes that I could still picture with full detail to this day.
Her grey eyes that were vibrant with mischief.
Her grey eyes that would cause me to wonder if I would still be entranced by them if they were brown.
Her grey eyes that I would get lost in.
Her grey eyes.
Every time I closed my own eyes, I could still picture her grey eyes, drowning in sadness.
Her grey eyes that were once so bright and lively, now dull and lifeless.
Her grey eyes that before would make me smile, now made me grow in concern.
The rest of her body wanted to give the impression of happiness, but her grey eyes would give her away.
Her grey eyes.
Her beautiful grey eyes.
Her lively grey eyes.
Her saddening grey eyes.
Her grey eyes that had been mysterious, suspenseful, playful, and impressionable now were a stranger to my own dull brown ones.
Her lifeless grey eyes were the only thing fully imprinted in my mind that I could never forget.
Her grey eyes had been the eyes I had loved for years and years before they had left me to go love another.
Her grey eyes would forever be the remembrance that I could no longer love the woman who had those beautiful, lifeless, grey eyes.
YOU ARE READING
A Book of Words That Never Seem To Be Enough
PoetryA book filled with words that I thought made sense, but they never seem to be enough. *warning* emotional, messy, raw and full of sadness (sometimes a little happiness here and there) I hope you give my words a chance, maybe they'll be enough for yo...
