I want to see the world from my own eyes. Look up from the dull, pewter sidewalk, Away from monochrome litter clinging to parkways, Towards the milky white birch branches that hang low above Or the yellowed moon that decided to stay into the day to check up on us. I want to stop looking at the world —at myself— With eyes that are not my own, eyes that judge, eyes that sneer, colorblind eyes. And when I do, I’ll see the world anew. Look beyond the tops of buildings To see skyscraper oaks with their rich chocolate barks And old lamp posts moss green with age. A neon blue sky that isn’t one hue But a mosaic, Made up of shards of indigo, Speckles of cerulean, Splinters of azure. When I lift the veil That covers my eyes and coats the world In greyish tones, I might finally see what’s at the end of my nose In the air I breathe, saturated with smells, In the things I touch, vibrating with life, A technicolor world that I am lucky enough to live in.
Bridget Massey is a sociology major who likes to read and garden in her spare time. She finds inspiration for her poetry in nature. When not in class, Bridget likes to spend time with her dog and watch trashy reality tv.
