Seeing Eyes

Your eyes are like ice cold pools of blue,

waiting for me to immerse myself into them.

Oh, how blue.

Like early dawn light.

My eyes see the sadness, the sorrow.

I need to fix them, make them better.

But how?

That's what I ask myself, day, and night.

But do you want them fixed?

I can answer my own question.

No, you don't. You never did.

But I do, so bad. I want to feel your sorrow. Your pain.

Please, let me fix those seeing eyes, of ice cold blue.