Going Blind

You wrap the velvet blackness around my shoulders Like a blanket tucking it around me as you tuck me away Implicating “out of sight, out of mind” as you hand me over But what if what I’m trying not to see my own mind? I ask. You don’t answer but she beckons me over Offering velvet blackness to coat my lungs Burning my nostrils on the way and twining with my hair Rising up and finally becoming infused in my brain At last, at last I go blind as the spicy scent of tobacco With the dizzying whirl of impurity fuse with my depression, molding it Into nothing more than a persona twisted around the truth of me. Blindness is unfriendly but still she is beautiful.