Two lines, and a shock inside them. The speaker imagines cutting out their own eyes and says the result would be perfect sight. It's a paradox: the way to see better is to stop seeing in the ordinary way.
The title, "choice," matters here. It frames this as something the speaker could decide to do, which makes the violence feel strangely calm. The "if" and the lowercase, flat tone keep the voice quiet, almost matter-of-fact, so the image lands harder.
What the speaker feels isn't stated, but the poem suggests exhaustion with what eyes show them. Maybe seeing means judging, comparing, or being hurt by what's in front of them. "Perfect sight" might mean an inner clarity, free from appearances. The mood is unsettling and bleak, with a cold, almost eerie calm. It leaves you wondering whether this is wisdom, despair, or both, and that uncertainty is what makes it stick.