Cataracts

You nurse as many grudges as your
       chances to obtain them.
Your heart still bleeds from carving up
       the holes where you contain them.
You bandage till you're paralyzed
       with blacklists that you keep.
Your anger blocks the airways
       till you're fighting just to breathe.
I can't live in your paralife.
I'm dying to get out.
I'm sickened by your chronic
       diarrhea of the mouth.
You'd grieve the casualties if you
       could use your calloused eyes.
But all your tears are for yourself,
       and so, for now, goodbye.

Proverbs 27:3   Stone is heavy and sand a burden, but provocation by a fool is heavier than both.