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I told myself that I was making myself blind.
Or rather,
reminded.

I stare into the sun,
taunt the misuse of bleach,
use perscriptions when none are perscribed,
and utmost of all... I don't take my vitamins.
(I'm such a bad kid.)

I'm doing it purposefully.
Or rather, not.
Because that makes it sound like blindness has a purpose.

I remember specifically,
one dreary, drizzly, lonely afternoon
(my scalp would fester and burn)
and as my eyes began to sting,
I thought:

Would I think I was more beautiful if I couldn't see myself?
If I couldn't even fathom a comparison?

Ironically,
The propelling idea behind this gregorian torture.
Is
vanity.
©2009 ~SucroseGirl
:iconsucrosegirl:

Author's Comments

Close up: just another face that blends into the sea of shining faces.

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February 2
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