You said these eyes—they used to speak to you?
What about now? Do they still speak?
They’ve been stained with sadness,
and sleepless nights—like tonight—because I’m anxious.
Are these eyes still alight? Could they be famous?
They used to be famous.
I was meant to be famous—in my own mind.
You both said I had it in my soul-filled eyes.
Tell me, Did I compromise? Did I compromise?
Or is there still time for me to rewind,
settle down, and find those sanguine soul eyes
that used to be famous—that used to be mine.
written in the spring of 2017