The eyes are the window to the soul
And they say they show our intent.
My eyes are on fire.
I stare you down as I strike a match.
You stare back,
Too entranced by the flames in my eyes
To notice the ones in my hand.
I drop the match.
I am not the only one here
Who needs reborn.
YOU ARE READING
Survive: Collected Poems
Poetry~WATTY'S 2019~ ~NOTICE~ AS OF 2/3/19, THIS COLLECTION HAS TOO MANY PARTS! READ VOLUME 2, THRIVE, OUT TODAY! On the pain, love, and passion that makes me human. Potential swearing, mentions of suicide, self harm, depression, rape, etc.
