Brown eyes, par Julia W | poèmes, essais et nouvelles sur Poeticous

Julia W

Julia W

Brown eyes

I sat on the edge of London, people caressing the sweet air around me, like the way the rain would catch onto the tips of your eyelashes, and fall slowly to sleep. Your brown eyes penetrating through my skin, writing your thoughts inside your iris’s, for everyone who looked into them to read. You’re filled with passion and a heartbeat like the ocean, but your eyes are coated in the stars shade of melancholy, and every time my hand grazes yours I can feel the ruins built inside your bones. The walls inside you they stand so tall, and every time it pours I remember how it felt to finally live inside of them. As if I were a faltering star, trying so hard to light up the sky for you, and over night I became the moon. Your ruins became my home, the only place that I could pack up my words and carry them on my back, to a place where I could sleep safely wrapped inside of them. I slept so safely inside of you, where are you now? I’m wrapped in stardust and wilted wildflowers, trying to feel the warmth against my skin again. My cheeks are pressed against the moon, my fingertips coated in nostalgia, curled against my ribcage. My words are frozen inside of me tonight, as I whisper to the stars; where are you now? Where are you now.

#Broken #Heartbreak #Home #Imagery #LostLost #LoveLove #NatureNature #Personification #Sad

2

Cory Garcia

11a

Reading this one a new paradigm of perception was revealed to me in regards to your poetry... images of epic poetry came to mind... the object of your affection on a journey... tied to you in some fashion... and after the adventure of the day... each night the object finds comfort and the nurturing embrace of your songs played on a voice recorder or perhaps carried on the wind... the object wakes refreshed and renewed ready to face the days journey... and longing for the day it is at last able to reside again in the throbbing beneath your chest... in the home where it was birthed... perhaps the object is your own heart... I do not know... but the images of epic poetry were there :)

Julia W

11a

Thank you so much you get exactly the feeling I was trying to portray!

Julia W

11a

What a beautiful comment from a beautiful writer :) you get it exactly :) thanks so much

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