Bleary-Eyed Blues

A poem by Julianne Neely

graffiti-eye-1228388
The great
writers—clenched, unresponsive—
the love-me-let-me-go writers, you
know the ones, warn don’t ever describe
the eyes unless you want to be the kid in gym class

picked last for the team. But hell, I’ll fight

for talk of the town eyes, 2:58 in the morning taking,
only way to stay replete,
press it to paper. Eyes the color of snakes
in grass so green and lamina it’s a camouflage
bite and before you know it limbs are swelling,

blood coagulating. Real fucked

up eyes, bringing the drugs. Eyes you leave
your man for, roll and curl around like a master
key. Cook em` food. Make your lover
bore you, need a coffee grinder mix—

the blue, the green. How much would you pay
for a sparkle? 100 grand to see them bleary-
eyed dropping salt, dull, bloodshot high
on my bathroom floor blaming the world. Bird

eyes with unrecognizable classification. Pitched

in tongues. I’m suffocating eyes.

I’m talking about eyes that make you lose
everything, don’t even care about that D in Physics
eyes. I don’t want to eat,
just take me into bed, let me twist
my finger in your hair for hours eyes. I mean

what I say: eyes you could never dream of.

A fir green they make you afraid to read
books. I’ll never touch another
drink as long as I live eyes. I smoked
my last cigarette for those eyes. I don’t want to die
young anymore, I’ll grow old
with those eyes. Have you ever seen a cloud
pass over the sun, shake a fist for breaking the heat
on the skin? That’s what it’s like when the eyelid drops
over these eyes. I need them open, charring. Please

don’t leave eyes. I put polish on my nails for you
eyes. I walked around you in a circle eyes. I sat
in the backseat of your car eyes. I rolled up the window
by hand eyes. I watched my mother and father die
for your eyes. I feel

sorry for people who say not to write about eyes.
They obviously have never seen these eyes, solid shade, waiting
side of the road to unzip, outburst, spin tires out. Make me
eyes. Now is all
we have eyes.


Julianne Neely, 23, is a writer from New York. She has been previously published in Unbroken Journal, Babe Soda Zine, Moon Zine, and Maudlin House. She hates bios but loves Harry Potter. She also likes Twitter. Follow her @juleneely. But not around in person. That would be weird.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s