His eyes were sky reflecting the water.
When he smiles you can see the speckles of mud.
Like someone splashed paint on the sky.
You can tell when he's sad,
His eye gets dark.
His eyes are magical, upsetting, and deep.
I see his soul through those pale stained glass windows.
I see pain, sadness, joy.
His eyes give me butterflies
Because while I see all these things
I hear him say I love you
And his eyes get brighter
But I see my love.
And I know he sees his.
YOU ARE READING
It Started as A Nightmare
Short StoryI dreamt a dream and this story has been strung, a complicated web in which you realize how much your life could be changed with each breath. And each dream. I'm going to add to this in random intervals so keep checking back. Please leave feedback :...
