It's just poetry, it won't bite

Brown Eyes


02.22.17 Posted in today's words by

Jaclyn Burr’s most recent poem to appear here was “The Cherry Tree” (January 2017)

Brown Eyes
By Jaclyn Burr

I remember arguing,
expelling all the wind from my shallow lungs,
blood blooming in my cheeks.
I defended what I knew:
my eyes were a lovely blue—
a misty, ethereal, shimmering hue.
As I shielded the radiant veneer,
my sisters’ snickers fueled my indignation.

Eyes welling with tears, I tumbled up the winding staircase—
an endless maze blocking my salvation,
limbs flailing, but guided by the lump in my throat.
In the bathroom I closed the door of peeling white paint,
as my feet slipped on frigid, 1970s, mustard tiles.
I glared into the mirror,
heart pounding in my chest,
but to my torrential shock:
fierce dark eyes stared back at me.
Not translucent water
or dynamic sky—
but heaviness, mystery,
and darkness, unyielding.

I froze against the piercing of my delicate facade.
As reality crushed imagination,
I rummaged for anything in the pieces of what remained.
It was the first of many phantom fantasies
I’d shatter along the way.

Finally, I strode down the steps
in calm reticence,
staring at this new world
through awakened shades of brown.



One Response to “Brown Eyes”

  1. Thank you for alloying us to travel through life with you.

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