The things that haunt us
Have you ever worn glasses?
I have. And I still do.
The first day I put them on was exhilarating-
Liberating-
The mountains were more than blurs of lines
and messy hues below a cap of blue.
Bronze frames with colorless lenses
had focused sight into life.
And I loved to live.
My parents paid for them,
and I repaid them in my joy.
Sure.
I repaid them in my joy
and usage of the bronze frames
and clear untainted lenses.
I wore them every day
and soon saw they effect on my play
I could see the ball soar higher
and see the lights grow brighter
as I raised my mitt to catch a flier…
only to feel my lenses slip
and slide a little
messing up my sight a little
and sidling my mitt a little
so the ball hit the ground-
unbridled.
Sometimes the nosepiece would get a little bent
and then the frames that they held up would get a different scent
and my head would have to tilt itself to see the world straight
and my finger would need to push them up for the frame’s unapologetic state
And other times the screws would loose and become less brittle in hold
the arms which pushed down on my ears would lose their metal mold
and then the back side of my head would ache an awful lot
as my right side’s ear would feel a slide as the bronze frame left it’s spot.
And every day they put themselves blatantly in the way
of the world-its rocks and wood- and the air behind their space
and the lenses would get scratched and the lenses would get cracked
and the correctness of my sight would be marred by damaged light.
My parents reached in pockets
and in purses and in wallets
they forked up cash in dollops
and purchased me new sight
These lenses were frameless
and used no ears to balance them
I felt them slide a little
but my vision didn’t dim
I used these lenses frequently
but not frequent enough.
They were better for my play-
Sure-
But they had higher costs.
Running late already
made me neglect to put them in
and though the lenses seemed so thin
they felt like tin- so I wouldn’t put them in.
But then my parents corrected me
to correct my correct-less eyes
and wear my corrective lenses
that I could see the brighter skies
And so they kept on paying
and I kept on wearing cash
Obligated to correct my senses
Like a camera with it’s flash
But these lenses were to last a while and would sit in liquid at night
And oh thank goodness because my eyes were always quite a sight
After a long day of wearing plastic pieces on my eyes
I felt a little distraught remembering this didn’t happen to other guys
Oh, and if I would wear them while dust was in the air
That dust which would then deliberately contaminate my eyes
The correctness of my vision would be blurred by reality’s breath
And not fair to fear my tears and tears would never blink on out.
And when I reached up to rub my eyes because they did hurt so
The lens inside would slip and slide and break “correction”s flow
It would slip on out or just slip up and get covered in lint.
As such I lost my parents cash and the world became half dim.
As I’ve lived and worn pairs and pairs
and pairs of sight-correcting little worms
I have so much crap and junk to say about them
and so much hatred for the dough it cost to get’em
But though it SUCKS to admit it
I just can’t help but spit it
That my world without’em
is blurred.
Yes, I have worn glasses.
Yes I still do.
But the term corrective lenses
Will never be true
Because the only thing they do
is change the way I am
But is the change permanent?
or is it just another scam?
I am not a different person when I wear them on my face
It’s too short-lasting of a difference to apply it in that case
And for all the good they do FOR me
The only thing they’ve done TO me
is stab
and cut
and tear
and hurt
and rob
and distort
and get my hopes up for a brighter future
Cuz’ they show a brighter present-
But, still
At the close of every day I take them off to sleep
But before my vision leaves I look up at the Darkness…
and feel my eyes adjust to the world they’ve been thrust back in
a world where no “correction” inherently is given
And every day at that sight I close my eyes to dream
of a world where my body has been given a new name
and I can see with all the “correctness” that the lenses claim to give
Only to wake to a body that is broken again.