I still might kill myself one day I havenât even thought about it in any serious way in years but the tears and the fears and the jeers from within my own mind still plague me all the time I stand in front of the bathroom mirror blue eyes looking into blue eyes but her smile quirks up on the wrong side and I tried and I tried but I just couldnât find in those blue blue eyes bright against a rim of white any of the answers to my questions in the night And when I pull that reflection wide watch mirror-me slide to the side blue blue eyes find blue blue bottles less than a palm in size up to six a day, they advise but whatâs the pain of a tooth or four when the truth is more than a soul can take? What did I do to deserve this ache? The popped off cap feels heavy in my hand but still I stand gazing long into this abyss and I donât miss the way the blue blue bottle looks bright against the pills of white I am reminded of a pair of blue blue eyes looking up at me from below and how much I want to see him grow of bright skies and brighter snows I am reminded of Saturday nights and my fatherâs cheers and the tears and the fears and the jeers donât go away but they are kept at bay Back into place, mirror-me swings blue blue eyes inside rings of red I am not dead But there they stay tucked away blue blue bottles that hold so much sway because I still might kill myself one day
Blue, re trout















