self portrait

If I could draw a line,
straight through the shape that was my face-

simply separate

in an artist's effort to only remove,
the once beautiful remains-

stain ridden,
mottled skin,

covered in smoke

soaked in toxins,
now permanently imbedded within.

If I could erase half my face,
remove all sorrow's scars and half hearted lovers-

completely eliminate.

If I could pour acid into my eyes,
and withstand the pain,
momentarily-

I never again have to see,

the evolutionary-

ugly me.