Blind my eyes
and score my face
tightening my lips to hide the pain
humiliate and obliviate my profile
that you register subconsciously
the lens of your eyes are better
than the camera you hold
the cold cruel lens that never shuts
unless it has captured your soul, your happiness
like some kind of prison
that only takes the air around you
but takes a lot more from me
I cry as the heat of exposure burns my skin
and rips my identity from me
as I sit bound by the evidence of my countenance
trapped by what I am
your forced to see me through another’s eyes
because the camera cannot capture
what you could see
in the developed ink
it isn't me
In a list
Comments
-
now this one I remember too! yay!! my old memory is coming back again! lol. I hate getting old lol.. He always hated cameras! poor thing 
Adding your comment:
