The Absence of Wavelength

The True Blind (Dear Angel)

I don’t look crippled. You walk past.
Blind, I don’t look lost. No cane, shades.
You walk on past.
I don’t wear my wounds
On the outside. You don’t see
Inside my soul.
You, angel, have love
For somebody. Not me.
I could block your path, plead.
My words mean nothing
Visually. I’m a weathered soul,
Bleeding within, blind from journey,
Not knowing where to go.
Frozen, can’t traverse another avenue,
Without you to help me cross.
Dear angel, I’m dying. You’re flying
Leagues above me. Don’t know
The true s*rr*w that I
Can’t express in distress.
I’ll manage. Walk on by.

5.20.22