Heterochromia

One eye was blue

A saddened pale whirlpool that pulled me in, drowning me ever closer to its pupil void.

An eye that stared at the sunset horizon, waiting for lost ships to come home, wondering if its waves were too much.

One eye was green

An envious thicket of vines strewn around my neck, wrapping me in a bramble of becoming.

An eye that darted back and forth, watching the seasons change, despite its pleas to remain.

Yet even with two different eyes

Neither ever saw me.