Eron

One day this town will never see me again.

sometimes, I get jealous of the smallest things. The air in which you breathe The friends you're with in the moment The strangers you smile or nod at The cars which get so much of your attention- I know how pathetic I sound. I know. but there are days I feel jealous of everything around you. There are nights where I lie in bed and even wonder if I am enough for you. There are moments where I know you chose someone over me, and there are moments where I know someone beside you today made you laugh, and I couldn't. Someone got to see your smile today. Someone got to hear your laugh and your voice. Someone got to experience life near you Someone got to exist beside you Without having to miss you. and meanwhile I am here trying to not feel what I don't want to feel. Trying to not feel jealous of all the people who don't even realize how good they have got it. They are a part of a life that I can't be in fully in yet. And I guess that angers me. But I am pathetic. I sit in bed and wait. And wait. And I guess you see it sometimes too, we wait. Yet why does it make me angry.

There’s something about his eyes that the world could never quite capture. Not even the deepest waters or the clearest skies could truly mirror them.. They are oceans that breathe, that feel, that remember. When I look into them, I don’t just see color; I see tides, storms, peace, and everything that exists between those fragile moments of stillness and chaos. When I first met him, I didn’t realize I’d fall for his eyes. I noticed them, of course…They pulled me in without trying. But I didn’t understand then what they would come to mean to me. I didn’t know that one day, the sight of them would feel like coming home after years. I didn’t know that they would become my safe place, my haven, my undoing. His blue eyes carry warmth in them, though they remind me of the sea. They don’t feel cold or distant. They shimmer with something gentle, something that lives quietly beneath the surface. Sometimes, when he looks at me and doesn’t say a word, I swear I can hear the ocean in them…soft waves brushing the shore of my heart. It’s as if every unspoken thought, every feeling too fragile for words, drifts there, suspended between us. There’s a light in his eyes that I’ve never seen anywhere else. When he’s happy, they brighten like the surface kissed by sunlight, glimmering and alive. But when he’s quiet or lost in thought, they darken into that ocean blue…mysterious, endless, and a little haunting. And I find myself wanting to swim into them, to learn the rhythm of their waves, to understand what the silence beneath the water holds. Sometimes, I wonder what his eyes have seen. What storms they’ve gone through, what nights they’ve spent searching for something they couldn’t name. There’s a hint of ache in them, a softness that only comes from someone who’s known pain and still chooses to love. It makes me want to protect that light, to keep it from fading. I want to be the calm after his storm, the shore he can rest on when his tides grow heavy. There are moments when his eyes find mine, and the world just… stops. The noise fades, the air stills, and it’s just the two of us, suspended in something too sacred to explain. And in that stillness, I realize how deeply I love him. Not just because of his smile, or the way he makes me laugh, or how safe he makes me feel. Because his eyes hold everything I’ve ever searched for in someone. They hold truth. His blue eyes don’t just look at me; they see me. They see the parts of me I try to hide-the fears, the doubts, the quiet hopes I never speak aloud. Somehow, he looks at me as if none of those things make me less. His gaze feels like forgiveness, like understanding, like home. And every time he looks at me that way, I feel the world soften around the edges. I feel like I can breathe again. There’s something eternal in them too. When I look into his eyes, time loses meaning. I forget where I am, who I’m supposed to be. All I know is that I exist-right there, in that gaze-and for a moment, that’s enough. I don’t need words, promises, or explanations. His eyes tell me everything. They say, I’m here. They say, You’re safe. They say, You’re loved. And maybe that’s why I compare them to oceans. Because oceans hold everything-life, beauty, danger, peace, chaos, secrets. His eyes do the same. They are gentle, but they could drown me if they wanted to. They are vast enough to get lost in, but familiar enough to feel like home. I could spend a lifetime learning them and still never reach the bottom. But that’s what makes them extraordinary. They’re not meant to be fully understood-just cherished, explored, loved. When he laughs, the blue turns brighter, lighter…like sunlight scattering across waves. It’s contagious, the way his joy lights up his face. It makes me want to laugh too, even if I don’t know why. But when he’s quiet, his eyes darken into something deeper, like the sea at night. And even then, I love them. Maybe even more then. Because that’s when I see his depth, his strength, his soul. There are days when I wish I could take a picture, just to capture that exact shade of blue, that fleeting shimmer when he looks at me and the world melts away. But I know no picture could ever hold it. No photograph could capture the life inside them. His eyes aren’t just something to look at; they’re something to feel. Sometimes I wonder if he knows what his eyes do to me. If he realizes that one glance can unravel me completely. That when he looks at me, I feel both weightless and anchored at once. That I could be having the worst day, lost in my own mind, and then I meet his eyes — and everything quiets. It’s like the world exhales. I’ve seen many kinds of blue in my life: the sky, the sea, the ice, the flowers- but none like his. His blue is human. It’s flawed, beautiful, alive. It’s the kind of blue that doesn’t just exist, it feels. It holds warmth and ache and joy and love all at once. It reminds me that beauty isn’t about perfection; it’s about presence. His eyes are proof that something can be fragile and powerful at the same time. If his eyes were truly oceans, I would never want to reach the shore. I would let myself drift, let the currents take me wherever they wanted. Because even if I never found land again, I’d still be surrounded by him, by that vast, endless blue that feels like forever. His eyes are my ocean. And I am forever learning how to breathe beneath their waves. I wish to stay like this forever, under them in that way. Searching his soul for the love he gives me. Searching for that warmth he wants in return.

all of my poems and writings have been burned. Burned into the memories of my being. Burned into the corners of my journals. Burned into my heart like a stabbing wound.