TO VANKATA WHO REALLY LIKED THAT PIECE :)
Sometimes all I want is to pull my eyes out… more or less for the purpose of
seeing. Later, I will put them back but not in their usual position. I would rather insert them with the pupil gazing back, leaving the nerves outside, exposed to the outer world. Of course, no one will notice the nauseous being with bleeding nerves replacing the beautiful retinas since the ‘world’ is so busy doing its gross misdoings. Thus, with my vision so
unimpaired I will not focus on what is insight since I already know myself in excess but try to perceive it with ‘different eyes.’ I want to penetrate inside, to break open, and to question:
What is it that makes me move? Is it the morning dew,
Or the thought that time is running through?
Should I spread the wings of desire,
Or follow the destitute preordained?
My eyes perceiving an unexpected self
Harnessing the soul in an unpleasant torture
Guiding it towards a glamorous future –
Future expected my many and none.
Even though my eyes were ‘blind outside’ I saw a person in the city park. A gentleman of an age respected was calmly sitting under the light rain, playing on his faithful accordion. I passed by – I did not want to scare him away because I knew he will notice the absence of eyes on my face. He was not part of that world – he had a pure heart. And although he had no shelter to put his tired body at rest, he was satisfied with what was his; playing French chansons of a decade forgotten.
Days have passed and no one discerned my bleeding eyes but him. I found what I was looking for, I found it out. It is not that you see with your eyes beloved but that you want to follow…
