I still own my sad eyes,
They stare at me in reflections I attempt to avoid.
I talk them away,
And put them in my back pocket
With all my grey hair of regret.
I walk around blind to the world,
So I won’t have to catch a glimpse,
At the shadow controlling me.
I gaze through my shades,
and write a poetic interpretation about how I am merely dis assembling someone else.
The glimmer in my eye you see,
is something that only comes to fruition at peaceful interludes.