These Are Not My Eyes

These are not my eyes
In rare moments I put them away
I still like what I see.
I do.

I prefer to hide
Yet I am found
And never walked past.
Why?

When I look through glass too much,
I burn something, or myself.

These are not my eyes
I close those that are mine
An alternate world, I see.
I do.

I avoided it
I bumped so hard
And now this.
Why?

When I open my real eyes wide,
I burn something, or myself.

- May 26th and 30th, 2018


This poem has two versions - the posted version has two verses omitted and six lines have been altered. I need to get this out of my head before my brain completely leaves my skull because it already thinks the rest of me is a nutjob.

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