Eyes B

Eyes…
Big brown beautiful blessing that behold the unseen masked behind behavioral banality
‘Cause sometimes….
reality bites too hard.
So,
eyes be lying sometimes,
I mean,
I’z be lying sometimes.
In my mind it doesn’t seem so wrong ‘cause I’ve been doing it so long.
Now my eyes sing songs that lyrically manipulate mind frames
into reverentially relying on lying.
Eyes hold stories that can evolve into a series,
seriously.
I’ve gotten lost inside a pair that was homeless.
Instantly my eyes became vicarious,
and I aged with him.
then went back in times when daddy was never there,
and mommy wrote in her skin often because life was too hard for her to bear,
and one day her pages stopped singing.
I’z was there,
our eyes were there,
but didn’t leak as we picked up mommy the empty journal up off the floor.
Walked out the door of the only home that we would ever have.
We kept going back…
Back to the night we were born,
we were beautiful.
And mommy said she say potential in his eyes…
What happened?
I’z be,
Eyes be crying sometimes,
and don’t know why they leak.
Why their souls bleed.
Why they see things that they never should have in the first place
and keep replaying them over,
and keep replaying them over,
and keep replying them over
and over like a bad movie,
moving me.
I’ve witnessed tragedies.
Now it seems like each one of my heart beats is a lifetime gone to waste,
so I pace myself…
‘Cause eyes blink,
and worlds end.
Eyes sleep,
and galaxies are lost
and universes crumble.
Oh how the mighty are humbled when eyes be opened.
Eyes be widen in bewildered shock when they realize that they
have not seen everything.
And everything
is anything
anything is nothing
and nothing is always something.
And sometimes…
messages are lost in the crevices of eyes.
Then those crevices get over run,
and stories get past on,
extended,
remixed,
and flipped.
So let me flip the script.
Eyes be,
dead.
I’s be…
dead.
My eyes be….
Locked, loaded and cocked back,
ready to lash back at the last motha fucka that put these dagger wounds in my back
but then sometimes my eyes be like…….
man fuck that.
That bastard was just a right of passage,
no more significant than an act of flatulence
and I don’t need them to validate that I’m the shit,
‘cause I’m
the shit
to me.
And yeah you right…
that is slightly cocky,
but I’z be the only one who can take care of me.
My eyes be watching,
watching how eyes be ducking and dodging.
Dancing around they sockets.
Trying to keep their stories untold and their secrets unheard,
but still they eyes be singing.
Eyes be captivating.
So what are the ones next you saying?
I guarantee that if you take the time to look you’ll see that
your eyes be,
his eyes be,
my eyes..
be.