The crunching sound of glass under the sole of my shoe.
The gentle bend as the metal frames twisted unrecognisably.
Fragments littering the cement around me.
For what purpose did I need them.

Walking away.
Dread and edrenaline mix together.
Jumping at my own shadow.
Yet no longer having to look at the world.

No longer having to see it.
But still stuck inside it.
Standing behind the retina.
Behind the same distorted lenses.

Shame.
Longing.
Blind.
Lost.
I actually purposefully stepped on my glasses once. It was one of the worst days of my life, that I almost never talk about. I was depressed anxious and desperate to escape my life so without any thought or planning I ran out my house. Somewhere along the way my brain through it would be a brilliant idea of crush my glasses to pieces. Lets just say that by the end of that night i ended up in the hospital and i learnt what shame truly is.
*note - Myopia is the technical name for being short sighted*
There are two doors
with but a try of one key
One door leading to prison
The other setting you free

But which door holds what
one’s mind cannot see
Till you take that chance
on whatever may be

For this I am certain
and I’m sure you agree
You’re a prisoner either way
till one turns that key
If I ever left this world
I'd leave myself behind
And if I happen to return
myself I will not find
For it will either be I,
or myself
that is blind.
This poem is part of a series of poems titled: Forgetfully Missing.
This is 3:4- Leave Myself Behind

Poetic Surgery, Copyright © 2018,  All rights reserved.
savvy May 10
I'm hearing both sides of the story.
But they're too oblivious to see the truth themselves.
clem turner May 10
i want to see my hands again.
they were the first thing i looked at of myself,
the first thing i look at every morning.
my family, i can hear,
myself, i feel—
but only with my hands.
they are the part of myself i took for granted,
the part of myself others held when i was mourning,
the hands i used to touch the shoulders of people i love
of people i hate,
the fingers i used to emote when my words had nothing else,
when i bit my lip, when i closed my eyes,
my hands were the speakers,
and now i am unfamiliar with them,
i want to reintroduce them to my eyes,
i want to see my hands again,
myself again,
my face is unneeded,
may my hair show a hairline i loathe,
may my cheeks be red,
may my clothes be unaligned,
my hands, i miss the most
for they are what i held in my lap,
over my heart,
pressed against my temples
and stretched outward
to reach for things too far
but all too close.
clem turner May 8
it has always been difficult to leave --
difficult to know well the sun or the moon
or the other clouds around mine.
i am blind.
i am also still, and i know i cannot stay this way.
i feel the heat of sun and hear the whir of
glorified "wind machines."
i can stall until it is time.
and there it is --
he screams, an attention obsessed thing
until i pay him the mind to quiet him.
my cloud is warm, the table is cold --
i hate him so much.
i reach the spot on his head
and he clicks quietly,
satisfied with my attention.

it is difficult to leave.
but it is worth the pains to escape him,
the little monster on my bedside table.
alarm clock
For you shone out of nowhere
In the everlasting depths of darkness
Reached out
and stealthily pulled me to the light

My emotions changing
ever so swiftly
with the every pump of the heart

My eyes blinded with such brightness and joy
For I wonder was it because of you
or the world now I saw?

But then you left
For there were many who walked in this world
Even when alone
I thanked you for showing me another world
Feel the ever depths of happiness
And the light which lit my skin
But solitude in the world of happiness was not my place

Then came my old friend
Darkness that lured me back in
'Welcome back'
for it wrapped me in its comfort
And said 'here you are to stay'
An eye for an eye,
Leaves one man shy.
With his eye,
He  shall pry
Into the land,
And be hand.
The crown
And gown.
Along with a ring ,
For the rightful king.
A twist to combining the two sayings of ‘an eye for an eye, and the whole world would be blind’ and in the land of the blind the one eyed man is king’.
spiral-whirl May 6
just like with the moon and wolf,
the moon loved the sun enough to give half his life to her,
but smart enough to keep the other half,
in case she decides to break it,

the reason we have night and day,
is because the moon loved sun,
but sun wasn't blinded by her light to see it,
but blinded by his appearance to embrace it
really, i always believed the real reason we have night and day is because the moon loves the sun but the sun doesn't love them back.
Umi May 5
Hidden in the ultraviolet,
Unseen by most yet to be forgotten by both heaven and hell,
Memories from the futures dawn, luxury of darkness,
Spin the wool and weave the fate, this world end's by my own hand,
Break loose of the lies and get lost within legendary illusions
A world so dark, the stars so blind an alluring form refuses to fall,
Rise, from the fire hell can't hold and is afraid of,
Spread the wings and soar beyond the scene, the art of demonicy
The holiest war is waged of what our hearts are made,
Do you nest in what you feel or have felt in this realm of devilry ?
After the mirror shows you all the truths you desire,
Deceived by your eyes, who do you want to trust ?
The last judgement ends with a long journey,
The nights luxury relies within my own hand, take it!
And maybe then, I will lead you to the light your heart cries out for.
After all, the love for it is for all to engage in.

~ Umi
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