Ocean blue. The color of her eyes remind me of my days on the beach, staring at the foaming sea. Her eyes show the hurt she will never be able to express. The purple circles underneath them show the countless nights she spent reading her soul out, crying over the deaths of her favorite fictional characters. Her eyes speak the thousands of words that can never be said. Her eyes have held numerous tears, so many for reasons that shouldn't have mattered in the first place. In the past, she tried to show determination in those eyes, but I could see through it. That determination is a mask to hide the girl who is vulnerable and scared. That mask hides the real person she was. I was fortunate enough to see those eyes without the twisted mask, but only once. Only once was I lucky enough to meet the girl that cries over commercials with puppies or even thinking about her dogs dying. Her eyes were sad and alone. They always will be. She was damaged and bruised in her life, not loved, or so she thought. The truth is, she was everyone's world. The world revolved around her without her even knowing it. Now those eyes don't stare, hold tears, or even blink. They're buried six feet under the ground, along with the rest of her. Ocean blue. The color of my world.
