a life in words

minefield

i'm beginning to realize that it wasn't you,

in fact it was me, 

it's time i finally carry the blame like a tree, 

because i'm the common denominator in everything that ever goes wrong, 

but the irony is that maybe it was you, 

it has always been you,

but in a completely different capacity, 

there's a reason i could and can't ever get your blue eyes out of my head, 

but those same blue eyes are the ones that make me dread, 

every single fucking thought in my head, 

because, my god, it has always been you, 

there's a reason poems flow so freely when the topic is simply you, 

there's a reason why brown eyes have never made me feel the same way, 

and there's a reason i still cling to every single word that you say,

yet i'm still running and still growing, 

and all the while you've found another set of brown eyes to fill my shoes, 

and like every other pair - they look great on you, 

and i've found another set of brown eyes too, 

but sometimes i still wish they were your blue, 

and that's when i realize my head is like a minefield, 

and you're the grenade in my hand.