Wild as the ocean, free as a mountain sitting motionless. Soft as a storm blooming in full.






Wild as the ocean. Free as a mountain sitting motionless. Soft as a storm blooming in full.





Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Through Their Eyes

When I see myself through their eyes, I see gnarls.
I see a twist of body like a rooted tree gone nuts, tangling into itself, searching for moisture from it's own veins.
Random sprays of green shoot out like desperate attempts to grab at living, breath unbreathed incomplete.  Instead, collapsed inward.
When I look into your eyes and see outward, shards of glass come at me through you.
What seems like a blinding brilliance is nothing more than lenses without filters, firing every thing, every image all at once without pause.


Why would I look then.  Why would I want to see such an ugly totem carved out by others dangling over me from such a narrow view, reminding me of a broken mirror image instead.
Remind me to close my eyes and see within, instead of looking through your eyes, else I be blinded by fear.

10/16/13©DanyaMosgofian


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