dominant and recessive

The entirety of my mothers family has blue eyes 

It's a dominant trait, my mothers eyes are like the sky 

My uncles are more like the waters we would go kayaking in. So on and so forth 

My dad has hazel eyes. Brownish-green

The light hanging from our kitchen accentuated the green at two in the morning. Both riddled by insomnia and a love for peanut butter we would talk about everything the world had to offer  

My dad was adopted and his orphanage went Roman candle. Records went up in flames, ashes laughing at everything we could never know. 

Like his real parents. 

I have brown eyes with a hint of green depending on the lighting or my shirt or makeup 

In middle school we had to make a family tree, and I could trace blue eyes on my mothers side all the way back from stepping off Elis Island 

Thyroid issues, obesity, manic-depression, and blue eyes 

My fathers side were question marks 

Half of my family tree is unidentifiable, roots too twisted and mangled to be known 

When my father dies, half of my DNA will only live on inside me

Half of everything I am will only be found in the mirror, and when I die it will be extinguished from the world 

I never want to have kids 

It would seem like a punishment before they're even born, to give them these genetics. To hand over the DNA that I don't want, diluted by my partner 

I was given my fathers eyes and hair 

When he shaves his head in a fit of anxious impulse I dye mine red for the first time 

Because looking into the mirror is like looking at a forest fire 

And knowing that every second it exists someone or something is being burned 

Sometimes I wonder if when my mom looks into my eyes she doesn't see family 

But the eyes of the person she left 

Whisky eyes, vodka eyes

A mouth like match head, words like clicking of a lighter, having this face feels a lot like burning 

This body is a Molotov cocktail 

I am a smoke detector without batteries. A fire hydrant without water. 

I'm don't know how I'm supposed to put out this fire I inherited. 

I am drowning in the sky or the ocean, a sea of blue that I don't belong in 

That I was never supposed to be put into 

When I was born, like all baby's I had blue eyes 

Sometimes I think my mother never expected them to change 

That or 

She never wanted them to