there’s come on my sweater
and a knife in my eye;

lid twitches over socket,
fallen out or it will soon;
cancer-infected vision,
come-stained point of view;

ugly and bleached,
rinse and repeat
until it joins trash;
****** laden crash;

it’s all the same,
ply my fingernail back
and feel the pain;

it’ll still be the same;
same smell, same sorrow,

same stain.