Empty Eyes: A Poem
Empty eyes and empty hands
and echoed, re-echoed
forgotten demands give way
to bleeding eyes and bleeding hands
The cupboards emptied,
the shelves bared
our hearts on paper-thin
papers strewn across the floor,
slamming doors and shouting voices —
we had a choice once. We had a choice.
Tell me this.
Tell me this.
Seeking out, reaching out
feeling for you. Reaching out
and touching you and feeling you
only for you to draw away again.
Come on. Come on. We had a choice
back then. We had a choice.
you remember this.
Now it’s knife-edge
throwing pots and pans.
A spill of anger. An emptied dam.
Bleeding knuckles. Bleeding hands.
I like writing poetry about love because love is an incredibly universal emotion. For this reason, I can rest assured that people will relate to my love poetry.
Please tell me in the comments what you thought about “Empty Eyes.”
Thank you for reading!
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