My eyes,
are a story,
waiting to come.
My left one gold, flecked with green.
My right one brown, flecked with amber.
The difference subtle,
but there, noticeable.
My eyes,
the center of all of my emotion.
They do not lie,
unlike my mouth,
it's plump pink lips pressed together,
and, I'm fine, just fine.
My eyes,
endless truth,
pools of sorrow.
Deepest of pools,
the colors swirling and pulling together,
getting lightest at the center,
whisper, not fine, not fine at all.
My mouth,
the source of my vanity,
rambles on and on,
I've seen puddles deeper.
My eyes,
different colors,
one seeing everything,
the truth.
the other, nothing at all,
The lies, and believing them.
The blind eye.
My beautiful eye.
Gold flecked with green,
the enabler of lies.
My lame eye.
Brown flecked with gold.
the condemner.
Tired of your lies,
as well as the traitor below my nose.
Why is it
that on one surface, there are so many
conflicts.
My plush pink full lips a fountain of lies.
and my endless eyes, surrounding a pool of black,
screaming the truth.
The rest of my face is just there for good measure.