Anexis Matos

I walk among them through the hallways blind,
wondering what they find so frightening.
Walking with them, nothing is brightening
and I see that true friends are hard to find.
When someone happens to say something kind,
the endless pressure is less tightening.
Everything they say is enlightening,
but the storm of emotions can still bind.

Their words and voices echo in my brain.
It seems as though the teasing has no end
and anger surrounds me like a dark stain.
Blind as I am, I always tend to gain.
I am happy to have found my true friend
because, with true friends, there is no dark rain.

Author’s Note

My blindness got me bullied as a kid. Being constantly teased was no fun. It gave me some serious self-esteem issues that, in a way, I’m working to undo.

When I wrote this poem, I don’t think I fully understood what it was about. It was my first Italian sonnet. I was happy with my accomplishment and didn’t pay attention to what it was about.

Blindness doesn’t necessarily look like this anymore. Parts of it do, but it has evolved over the years. This is how it looked like when I was a kid and teenager, though. It’s a perfect picture.

At 23, I can look at myself with sharper clarity. There’s so much I want to say to my younger self. I’m starting to understand her better, but it doesn’t change what happened. I can only understand and validate.

It’s important to honor my younger self. It doesn’t change anything, but I gain a better perspective. I can use it to help me in the future.

Like Sound Memory, I wrote this poem some time in my senior year of high school. I published both of these poems in the same literary journal. It holds a special place because it still resonates, even though I wrote at 17. It’s still raw and real to me.