Your eyes were a deep shade of brown yet they were the prettiest f***ing brown I had ever seen. I used to be told that brown eyes were bland , forgotten about in a sea of pretty blues and emerald greens. Those eyes , the same one's i'd see in my dreams for months , an image forever burned into my memory like the dense needles of a tattoo gun. In a way you always were like that chaotic and imperishable; stuck to me like the thorns on a rose. You weren't the calm before the storm you were the storm at it's worst , a catastrophic work of art; a violent string of colors.