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I Seem to Have Lost My Eyes... May I Please Borrow Yours?
Oh dear, I cannot see a thing.
I seem to have lost my own eyes!
May I please borrow yours?
I couldn’t quite tell you when or where I misplaced them.
I used to be nine and unaware of what beauty actually meant,
So maybe some time after that?
Or perhaps when I got my first cell phone,
as ever since then, I’ve had an incessant paparazzi crew
capturing my every move.
Sometimes I weep because my heart has been pierced.
Tears that are honest and true, I swear to you! I do!
Yet I still find myself crawling over to the cheval mirror
like a sprayed down, half-dead spider.
Gazing at the face I see
with black mascara streaks covering her cheeks
would you still think I was pretty? I’m begging,
please tell me!
I’m ashamed to admit to you that I usually find more pleasure in looking back at photos
than in the moments that I’ve lived.
Because these pictures are evidence I can share to prove
that I really do exist!
I tried to daily journal because therapist Emily said it would help,
but I just can’t.
Because I don’t believe that tales of my mundane days spent in bed
will inspire my grandchildren enough
after I become ugly and/or dead.
Goodness, I am entirely unable to look down and see my own palms!
Here, allow me to return these to you…
Oh my, oh no…well,
they are stuck!
I’m so sorry…
I would give them back
If I could
God, I really, really would.
Maybe I could help you find another pair?
I’ve heard that many others have also