Green eyes where everything disappears.
Inside a forest, the paths loop back.
They swallow.
There’s a hunger in that color—
not the kind that devours quick,
but the kind that keeps you walking,
keeps you thinking you’ll find your way.
You won’t.
The moss grows over footprints.
The branches close where there was light.
People go in looking for something
and come back different,
or they don’t come back at all.
They stay inside the green,
forgetting what it was like
to want anything else.
