My eyes
were stitched
closed
so that I could
not see
the perpetrators
of the wounds
A thousand
paper cut
lacerations
stung
deeply -
everywhere
Confused -
unable to
make sense
of where they
came from
Not realising they
were there
until I felt
them come
alive with
the lifeblood
of a hot burn
days later
Bathing them
in salt water -
solitary - until they
would heal. It
became ritual -
Recovery
Then one day -
body
piercing all over -
My hands reached
up of their own
volition
And picked each
stitch carefully
from
my eyes - Pus
oozing out through
scabs and crusts
Lids heavy, my
retina adjusted.
The slime
coagulated
to the bottom
And for the first
time I saw their
truly
hideous faces
and set myself
free
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