Distorted Reflections

I look down in the water, confused by what I see. The drops hailing from my eyes keep distorting me. I promised I wouldn't change who I was, but my very reflection is shimmering. If I were to have kept that promise, my image would be clear as the sky, but I am in a motion of reform.

The me that I know is a wave. So many, overlapping. Retreating and expanding as they are pulled by the forces. Easily held within the limits, but hitting with a force strong enough to tear apart a world.

It is said the ocean can only come in eye colors, and my heart clams up as I picture your eyes. My brow comes down, first in confusion and then in sadness. Your eyes are brown. Picture a brown ocean. So ruined it wasn't meant to be right. Controlled and limited, I think it would be sadly harmful.

The toxins must have come from somewhere, and I control to urge to be there for you, protect you from the poison. But no, poison spreads as I have learned, and you are already tinting my reflection. 

My eyes are green. Green like the grass rooting the sea to the soil. Pulling the harm away, absorbing  it into nothingness. It clings to both. It holds onto that grounded brown. The brown stabilizes it, prevents it from floating away. But the blue washes over it relief, untangling stress and urging to take a risk and let go.

The nice thing about letting go, is you float. You are not in pursuit of something, you are not striving for something you cannot force. These things come and go. You simply be. 

I look down, and the water clears. I see a girl. A girl who has a lot of decisions to make.

The End

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