I would give up my sight,
So you could see how beautiful you are.
I would give up my hearing,
So you could hear all the nice things people say about you.
I would give up my heart,
So you could love your self.
I would give up my voice,
So you could say you love your body.
I would give up my mind,
So you could think about the good things and not the bad.
I would give up every part of me if it would help you.

What I see
is not what is

I tell myself tales
of how life appears
of where I’ve been
where I’m going

That’s the trouble
with a writers mind
you never know
which part you should believe

I had woken
at a friends to them
discussing their glasses and
tears formed in my eyes,
tightness formed in my chest and
I had to focus and my breath
because I thought of you in your glasses
especially when you had scruff
on your face or when wearing a sweater
I always expressed how much
I loved your glasses but
you never wore them more
and now I don't have enough
images to last and it's going to be
a long forever without seeing you
in your glasses.

I looked at myself today.
I mean, I really looked, I saw.
I leaned on the bathroom counter and stared into my own reflection.
I took note of my dark, slightly greasy, hair.
It's  longer and thicker since I last paid attention.
My eyes are more grey than blue tonight.
Like dark water under a full moon.
My freckles are still uncountable.
I always forget how many I have.
I've been looking at them for over 26 years so I don't see them anymore.
Then there's the slightly puffy, red patches on either side of my nose.
Indicative of my sinus infection and dehydration.
And I find that no matter how many times I've seen my face,
No matter how many pictures of every angle.
I look so much like a stranger to myself.
And the longer I stare,
The less I recognize.
I want to know myself .
Find out what's past that dark water on full moon night.


****
I have this memory , I think it might be one of my earliest. so age 2-3 years old. I'm not sure, but I remember going into the bathroom,
Stepping up onto the stool and looking in the mirror And I was shocked at what I saw. I thought, "that's not what I'm supposed to look like." I was disappointed and confused. It was like I had never seen myself before. It's a strange memory, I don't know what it means , except that I've never recognized myself.
In movies people always know their clones immediately. I've always thought that was crazy. I am confident I'd never recognize someone that looked just like me.