But now I hate having my eyes,
because they are no longer made to see you,
just to cry for you so much.
The nights are oceans,
my tears the tides–
I drown in the memory of your face.
Yet somewhere between the ache and the salt,
a dawn rises, quiet but sure.
These same eyes that once wept for you
begin to notice other things:
the silver hush of morning clouds
the laughter tucked in strangers’ smiles,
the green stubbornness of the earth’s return.
I thought they had forgotten how to see joy,
but perhaps grief was only the shadow
Teaching me what light can be.
I was inspired to write this poem after reading a quote by Rachel Van Dyke that says, “I love your eyes. But I love mine more. ‘Cause without them, I won’t see yours.” That line made me realize how love can change the way we see the world-how our eyes can go from finding joy in someone else to only seeing pain when they’re gone. The poem reflects that transformation, moving from sorrow and longing to rediscovering beauty in small moments again. It’s about learning that even after heartbreak, our eyes - and hearts - can find light once more.