My eyes are black.

They are black because with all the light I absorb I, still lack the courage to say let there be.

They are black because I cannot stand to swallow truth. 

This bittersweet life lies between Heaven and something far from it. 

I can't bare to do this cinnamon challenge, if spice is the spice of life,

Would you raid your panty like ants at a picnic?

 

My eyes are black because I've seen too many flashing lights and I can't see in front of me. 

I've been blinded by too many instances of putting false belief in people.

I've been blinded by too many instances of putting belief in people.

Flash backs of backstabs stabbing my eyes out like I'm Oedipus. 

 

 

My eyes are black because festival lights hurt too much, 

More than 1460 days ago my grandmother passed away. 

My eyes are black because memories of hours in hospital, after school, not finishing homework, long nights. 

Long, tear filled nights,  tearful nights of family members hugging, talking, praying and crying. 

My eyes are black because I can't stand to see a woman who had so much to say become mute to cancer. 

My eyes are black because I shouldn't fear memories of her fading from my mind already. 

Like Christmas mornings at her house when Santa made two stops and one extra  gift for me just because. 

You made it past Christmas by one day. 

And these festival lights will always hurt. 

But I never got the chance to say...

Sunday mornings will never be the same. 

My eyes are black because I remember driving 1 hour to your house to spend my Sunday morning. 

Not really spending it with you but watching tv because I was too young to care, too young to say let there be. 

But if those Sunday morning were still here a few hours would be the least of my worries. 

My eyes are black because I don't need image to remember you.

But when I remember you I remember your last day. 

We were all in the hospital, 7 in the morning maybe. I did not even realize it after I put your pale skin and nonmoving together. 

 

Now I spend my Sunday mornings driving 30 minutes to your tombstone  to bring you flowers because I waited until they wilted to bring them to you. 

I wish you could hear me because if you could still hear, a few hours would be the least of my worries. 

Because if you were still here, a few hours would be the least of my worries.

Close my black eyes now, I see you surrounded by...

Let there be light.