I blindly fondled the nightstand for my glasses
And introduced to my eyes the supposed truth about the visible
I have intuited so much in self-trust…
I removed the glasses from my face and broke them in my hands
True control lies in the burden of refusing help
Glass covered the floor and sent a glare my way
I stepped onto the ground and trusted in the pain
I have so much pity for those wearing sandals in the desert…
If sand is hot, then test it barefoot- cast your shoes astray
True control is knowing your skin has layers to lose