Screw You

YOU wouldn’t be able to tell

The colour of MY eyes

Instead

Take this view of my back

turned by a lathe

an expanse of cracked skin

taut with amber pulsing sores

failing your symmetrical test.

clock without a face.

This skin has now thickened.

Extra layers of fat from many winters

have varnished me

like some conker conqueror.

YOU try shave me against my will

YOU stick me in a vice

tightening screws so I am wedged.

I will never turn for you

YOU try to sand me course

I cling on to aged rusty nails

all notched and diseased

Repelling you, jolting you

Sparking you, splintering you

Avoiding you.

YOU try and smelt me,

hammering me into sawdust

chiselling me into nothing.

Go ahead Fucker
GO ON!!

I’ll gauge out my eyes

before I ever look at yours
again.