you slept with knives once
and they loved to cut you
and laugh when you bled
but you can't cut them back.

they have muscles in their eyes,
they can see but i am blind,
but i still have my ears
and i hear you plotting.

we blind still can feel
the slap in the face
every time you think
you can lie and flee.

when i cross the street
i ask for a different hand
because yours has had me
alone in the middle of the road
waving my arms and screaming
for even the aid of a stranger
over yours.