What does it mean to have vision?
Like, REAL VISION?
You clutch my wrists like I have answers
And you can shake them out of me.
I’m afraid “vision” means a lifetime of
Staring the world in its ugly face.
I should warn you that the world never blinks.
It hurts to see,
I say, as I pass a pair of surgical scissors
From my hands into yours.
It hurts to cut your lids off and
Live with open eyes forever.