writing

behind her eyes

Her eyes were the keys to the kingdom, with their greens of the grasses and the blues of the sunny sky. Sometimes, the clouds of the grayness would sweep over the lands as the tears of her anguish sizzled along the once scorched brown ground. The people cheered as the rain they prayed for finally came. They had been without for so long, and as she trembled in the sadness of her tears, the villagers ran out with their buckets and took advantage of the oasis. Her eyes carried the people and with them, their hope. After sleepless nights, the dark blues of her eyes looked too heavy a burden for one girl to carry, but she did nonetheless. Her eyes showed the future, from the brightest of blues to the angriest hazels, with the curious furrow of her brows and the restfulness of their closing as the night fell upon them once again. Onlookers could tell by her eyes how drained she was, yet the town must live on behind the inquisitive pupils as they searched the room for him. Most couldn’t see behind the fences she fashioned to protect the people. They were her tribe, each one hers with their sadness and burdens and happiness and feats. She bore it all, and maybe that’s why no one ever saw her. She looked down so no one could see the storms beneath her eyelids, and refused to make eye contact as each time it was broken along with her trust. She keeps searching silently, though, for the light that would be worth the risk of blindness.

 

photo: pinterest

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