The holes in your skin,
The craters which you putty,
Creating a facade of whole
Never forgetting that
You are empty
Shots ring out against the pure white morning
Shattering the mirror in which you create yourself -
Recreate yourself
The one behind the shots is blind
The blind man sees all
Approaching you without fear,
Without disgust or hatred
For what you are and what you were becoming
He sees more than the holes -
He sees what is left.
