Eyes, with different stories. Stories that can tell you how they feel. My friend’s eyes are delicate yet strong. Like a porcelain doll sitting straight on a shelf. Eye’s that are shades of blue like watching the ocean change as it gets deeper. Her eye’s that concentrate on the cozy, crooked smile of a boy she likes. When days are cold her eyes are warm. When days are slow her eyes are bustling with thoughts. Her eye’s can be lazy, droopy and drained from hard work that weighs her down. But her eye’s will always be a friend. A friend I can look to when times are low.
My eyes, filled with optimism and outlook for the future. They say they are tired like a slow rain drop sliding down a window. They can scream excitement like a cannon blowing out confetti. My eyes can see, can see the fake and faith in time. My eyes are alive. Alive with emotions, excitement, and epic stories. They can show my favorite memories, a beach and ocean, tie-dye blue swirling like the ocean meeting the sandy beach. Eyes that are always friends when times are low.