Blind/Mute

Maybe the roll of genetic dice is to blame
But whatever the cause
I’m don’t think I’m seeing many of the things
That most others can see

As soon as I could listen and respond
And point or speak
I could tell you
If the toy was “yellow”, or “green”

I can distinguish between colours
I can mix pigments with some idea
Of the result before I see it
It’s hard to make things out in the dark
But in decent light
I can tell you what colour you’re wearing
I can search for and find objects
I can read

Maybe that’s why it took so long
Why the years rolled on, oblivious
Before I slowly realized late in life
That I’ve been semi-blind since birth

I take it all in
The tidal waves of data
The light, the dark, the shapes
The rings and pits, the surrounding muscle
So small but so critical
And I am overwhelmed
The surges of information
Pass by uncaught or dismissed
By traffic-jammed neurological pathways
Signals get lost in the noise
And I see without seeing

My transmission is broken too
Visually mute
My face won’t move
In the ways you’d expect it to
The muscles remain still, stagnant
When they should come alive
Or they activate when they should sleep
The eyes move out of sync
They don’t reshape correctly
They don’t say anything
(When dry)
And even worse
They sometimes tell lies
But the lies never come from anything real
They serve no purpose or intention 

Don’t make me look
I don’t want to look
It doesn’t feel good to look
Unlike the numb past
It hurts to look now
Now that I have a greater sense
Of what I’m not a part of
It hurts so much to remember
How much I’m missing
And besides, I won’t see you anyway
And what you don’t understand is
You won’t see me either

October 7, 2024

Continuation: Listening to See, Looking to Hear: a Follow-Up to Blind/Mute