The sandstorm in my eye

My eyelids fall covering my hazel eyes,
And I see you, tall and strong, handsome as always, dark brown hair, smiling at me
And I see me, small but powerful, dirty blonde hair, with pale skin that washes over me, and I’m laughing at the joke you just told
And I see us, together, laughing, laying on a big green golf course with the stars shining bright above us
All the feelings rushing through the air like a sand storm all around us, the grains of sand are our feelings
Until suddenly the storm stops
And you’re not smiling at me anymore and the stars aren’t shining quite so bright
The smile is wiped from my face and confusion thrashes through me.
My heart knows already, it isn’t confused, but the hardest part is believing.
Your eyes tell me the truth, not your words
You tell me you’re sorry and you didn’t mean for it to hurt me
Your words are lies, you think you’ve gotten good at it, but your eyes can’t lie to me
Because your eyes paint the picture that shows me the way,
The way to her; taller than me, but shorter than you, tanner with muscles of a swimmer
With hair that has gentle waves like the calm ocean
So shiny and perfect iced like dark chocolate
Her deep brown eyes like exploring in an underground cave,
She’s the one who makes him go to Cloud 9, not me.
He looks in my eyes and tries to explain, but stops short as he sees the pain rushing into me
He reaches out for a gentle hug, but my body pulls away.
The sandstorms back, but this time it’s just me inside it and all the feelings are different
But the storm is strong, and no one can get to me, no one can hurt me
I swear I’m okay, to everyone that asks until I get home, where I don’t have to hide
Chills race up my spine, goosebumps cover my body, and I shake uncontrollably, laying on the couch where he first kissed me, tears stream down my cheeks letting every emotion leak out of me, the good and the bad
Now, my eyes open and I say hello, to him and her
The memories are only memories inside my head, and things are different now
His arm wrapped tight around her waist, he still stands tall and strong, smiling at me
She stands blushing a bit, not even knowing that he used to be mine, she leans into his body the way I used to lean into him.
He smiles at me and then say goodbye
But sometimes I think his words lie, and he doesn’t actually mean goodbye and only his eyes tell the truth
Painting a picture, a picture that says, “I really do miss you”
But as the two walk away hand in hand smiling, laughing, I tell myself I’m wrong, he doesn’t.
As I’m about to turn to walk away, I glance back at them one more time, and he turns his head, and looks at me, and I imagine the feeling his arms around me once more,
As he mouths the words “I’m sorry”
And for the first time, I trust his words again, his eyes still shine with a painting of her,
If he were to look hard enough into my eyes, he’d still find himself, and the remnants of a sandstorm sweeping with wonderful emotions I’ll never get rid of, no matter how hard I try.
But he won’t look into my eyes anymore, he has to finish exploring the caves of hers,
Maybe one day he’ll look back in mine, but maybe by then I won’t want him to.

The very first thing I wondered while reading this poem was why we needed to know minute physical descriptions of the people involved. Concentrate more on why they're there: the sandstorm.

All the feelings rushing through the air like a sand storm all around us, the grains of sand are our feelings

Try not to say exactly what everything represents; then there's nothing left to figure out. It's more fun when you know that I know that I know that you know that we both know what's going on, you know? ^_^ Anyways, try to integrate ideas like "the grains of sand are our feelings" into the poem more, rather than explicitly telling us.

And I see us, together, laughing, laying on a big green golf course with the stars shining bright above us

I really like that they're on a golf course. Very original

The smile is wiped from my face and confusion thrashes through me.

Similar to the "grains of sand are our feelings", this line is all about telling, when it should be all about showing. What effect does the confusion have on the you of the poem,other than that it is thrashing?

My heart knows already, it isn’t confused, but the hardest part is believing.

This line doesn't make much sense. What does the heart know? How does it know (since it doesn't have a brain itself)? I got lost in terms of what it's trying to believe, so this come off as romantic nonsense.

The way to her; taller than me, but shorter than you, tanner with muscles of a swimmer

With hair that has gentle waves like the calm ocean

So shiny and perfect iced like dark chocolate

Her deep brown eyes like exploring in an underground cave,

Again, the exact description of the other girl doesn't seem to do much other than illustrate she's pretty. It's good that there's a description, rather than just a statement like 'she was pretty', but it seems all over the place. Stay with the ocean theme of the swimmer and the waves and the cave, but connect it all a little more and it'll sound more like a strong, unified image.

All in all, I'm not really sure what happened. I mean, what I think happened was that there was a guy and a girl, but the guy wanted someone else, and in the end left the first girl. But ultimately, there's not much that plays to the emotions. Throughout the poem, I'm told mainly about what's happening and what people look like, but I don't really understand the emotions or the motivations of the narrator. Ultimately, this is the most confusing thing of all.

i fear I'm simply restated what Leja said, but the details you've added have taken the poeticness (I know that is not a word) from it. I know it's VERY hard to tone an overly descriptive story or poem down, but it'll be worth it in the end. From what I can see you have a good start and it can be something great! Keep up the work!

wow. i really like it.... The way you wrote it, like one sentence , with no punctuation, really adds to the whole "sandstorm effect".

I really like it, but maybe it's more of a poem than a story? In poems, words don't have to have meanings, they can keep going and they don't have to make sense, because what you wrote makes sense to you, and that's what's important.

keep trying, what you have so far is really great.