Please Take My Eyes Out Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

I look at my nails
Uneven, worn, cracked
Never manicured, pedicured
These tools, my axes, picks; buckets
Naively scratched my soul's walls and
I dug a tunnel to escape fear of care, love
Under them are tons of molecular memories
From prison cells, to gravel roads, to dry deserts
There I have seen men, women, children harmed
I have seen the ignored, all intentionally, by greed
Of a kind or another
My soul, my conscious, oh the willows in the wind

Each time I look at my nails
They tell me stories in detail
Unsuccessfully I try to comfort them
With Hope

'What a great liar! '
I hear the echoes reflect
Lost between pathos and ethos
I encounter the fact
Hell; the time I live
Pretentions, inequalities, injustice and terror

'Nails, '
I speak
'Live in time, '
I gaze:
'Get out of the shell, '
Then I shout:
'Be cluster bombs.'
Then I cry:
'Become IEDs'
Sweated, wet, I shake and shiver as was the Afghani child; Malaria:
'The age of hope, conscious and faith, if ever existed, is long dead.'
My nails are poisonous daggers; deep in soft soul and my poor heart.
'Please take my eyes out; crows.' I beg them.