My Two Eyes

My two eyes get heavy, and my two eyes go blind,
they pick me up and move me, 
they get lost and then they find.
They see into the wilderness: the dark, the deep, the blue.
They piece apart the construct of what is me and what is you.

And in the deconstructed wilderness,
in my raw, untethered brain,
every frame of mind explodes in marvel,
every thought of mine goes “Bang!”

It is the strangest thing that happens
when my whole world goes inside-out.
I rearrange the puzzle and then eviscerate my doubt.
The walls, they turn to murals, all floral-like and free. 
And, look! the hues of all the colors
are the hues of all the me’s.

So I climb into the murals and I drink in who I am,
and I swirl all the pastels and I swim through my own land.
It is under water that I breathe easy - I smile with my eyes.
The idea current sweeps me up and tells me “nothing really dies.”

But the monsters, they still stalk me,
and they try to turn my sea to gray.
They gnaw at all my quiet fears,
but I don’t need those anyway.

So I look myself in my two eyes

and I tell her “Go away!”
But we’re old friends and so we laugh

I always let her stay.

Again, I breathe out winding roads of wishes,
I shout “magenta!” at the sky.
And as I saunter about the tangible,
I can hear them ask me “why?“

I say, “the pitter-patter in my head, 
it’s more than I can stand.
So I’ve got to move my feet and dance, 
or I would offend the band.

And if the band inside my head goes quiet, 
then the walls, themselves, might too.
How sad it’d be! To watch the colors fade.
How sad! To lose what’s true.”

Tilting heads nod yes and tilting heads nod no,
it seems not every eye is kept open down below.

But such a lovely picture comes to life 
when I traverse all those fine lines,
So you see why I am always looking
with these two open eyes of mine.