I never know what to believe,
this blank spot
has stared back at me
and I’m still waiting
for it to look away.
It’s the eyes of the ugly girl,
those perfect circles
with others inside
and now
I just cant look away.
I think I’m waiting
for her to smile,
crack the sides of her mouth
where I could see her teeth
and know
exactly how she chews her food.
This split
is all I want,
being somewhat blind,
the way
notes are passed
and faces are judged,
wether it changes our choices or not.


About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

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