One Question, Second Time Around

Eyes the color of a sea completely discolored by the dirt of the past

Must be why I can’t see through them…

Warming and illuminating but put out by the harsh lies that I blew at them so easily

Like the first exhale of cigarette smoke that he always wanted me to cut down on

My words were as cold as the early snowfall that would soon rush in

And those eyes didn’t realize that they melted me so easily

I;m the only one who can hold my face forward

But my hands are always icy

And I can’t help but want to ask him if he’ll be willing to walk up beside me once more and work to keep in my peripheral

~Megan

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