VISION

Vision

By Anna Clare

Can you give me your eyes?

May I pluck them from your head, as a bird steals its worm?

May I take your sight?

My own is skewed.

My eyes are shattered,

Damned to see the world as twisted and deformed.

Your eyes must be pure, unpolluted.

Give them to me, will you?

I long to see myself,

My truest form,

I’m spent, I no longer see,

Only create-

Images of a disfigured beast,

Slack jaw,

Gaping mouth,

Formidable as I lord over you.

My monster on the hill,

I am my monster.

It haunts me as I run,

But can never escape.

I know nothing of the fictitious nature of this beast,

I hardly know it’s fictitious.

Tell me?

Can you see? May I see?

Yes, please, pop them right there,

I’ll get to them in a minute.

Would you like some tea?

Thank you, thank you.

I see now as you do,

My God- what have they done to you?

Take them back! Take them back!

Pray for us.

We are doomed by our eyes.