Everyday

I wake up

More so than often

Monolid

Every other day

I wake up

Less

Double

And it is

A tiny line

So close, too close to my eye

That makes all the difference

To me at least.

Yet the monster we have created

Known as society

Has ways of seeing it.

Beauty is a curse, some of it says

But what it thinks, is the true question,

I forgot to say

I wake up

Having to lift up my hand

Which is harder than thought

And crease it

Draw the line through my eye

Both

One time

Two

Times

Three

And I feel

Look

More beautiful

Prettier

Woke

In America

But beauty is a curse

It is heavy

It feels

Every night at home I need to

Let go

I find my hand thus

One more time

Trying to go back

Flattening my lid until

Until it is not there

But it comes back

Like “small eyes”

And “you have them”

“Like another”

Does

So I leave it

Leave “you have them”

And leave my double-lids

My calling

There

People have run, or

They hide

When I do this in reality but

I

I cannot

I am

Only swollen

Only a stranger

Only

Only one?