• eyes,past,poem
    Poetry,  Works

    The Eyes May See Differently

    Salt scraped from eyesWhere, oh where are youBorn with brittle sightI think no lessPitted spiritLeft to mournBroken nyeCast the mold of myselfTo make anew without youBut spark no more, glazed the mindMeek no more, the shadow of my moldAlways lined with vile selfOh, tender self wakeWhat I made masters over meBut dawn burns no moreGrinning despairThe smile kills the truthAnimal to myselfI know not where to goAlways it ends in revengeTo whatTo ourselves, foolish childThis convoluted shellBreathe no moreAnd dancing…