I was born with glasses on
Placed there by my parents
The nurses couldn’t do a thing
Because of course they couldn’t see them
I grew older and taller
And my glasses, they grew with me
After a few days in primary school
I spray-painted the lenses purple
I went traipsing around my childhood
All blinded and ecstatic
With all my little friends
And all their painted glasses
Then spring of fifth grade
My glasses got a washing
And when I put them back on again
I was blinded by a shining
So blinding was reality
That I’m afraid I squinted
In seventh grade I got some contact lenses
But from the tiny plastic sheets
I saw only an angle
Fall of eighth grade
I kept switching back and forth
Some days I wore my purple glasses
And sometimes I wore my lenses
Now, winter of the same year
I’ve found that when I don’t wear either
I can see so much clearer