Giving Sight To The Blind

I tried to force it,

push it,

but the world came


The result of blind ambition.

Memories of an amnesiac.

Struggled across the threshold,

never were so quick to win,

fought for every syllable,

a war for every inch.


It was never complicated,

but fate ran against

every situation.

Make things interesting.

None of this

is easy.

It tears at me

in my weakest places.

Unravelling who I am

for your pleasure.

Then I forget

how I go

back together again.


I’m fumbling for words

that were familiar.

Struggling to place

a name to the face,

instead of just admitting

that I don’t care;

that I never cared.

No one should have to be


of being who they are,

even if they’re an asshole.

Even if they speak the truth.

Even if they’re not

who you thought they were;

maybe they’re

the question to your answer.


It’s like I’m trying to describe

your own face to you

and you deny

the color of your eyes.

The words are hard enough

without all this spite.

If you could see yourself

without the filter of yourself,

open your eyes

and love yourself,

I wouldn’t need to kill myself

making you feel




Good night.

I’m turning off the light.

As the sun comes up

to light another day,

I’m still seeking a way

to faithfully describe

how you look in my eyes.

Better luck next time.


HG – 2018

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