Hear the author read their poem!

I sometimes see people as ballpoint pens

Skipping over letters 

More indentation than ink

Until one day the staining spreads

I sometimes see people as uncooked kernels

Inflated with nothing, they grow

And singe as quickly as they grew

The prime being mere seconds long

I sometimes see people as lava lamps

After eons they melt away

Only to cycle back to the same core

Merely putting on a show

I sometimes see people as worn books

The folded imperfections never to be undone

Cracked spines and musty, suffocating odors

A new discovery with every read

I sometimes see people as pushpins

Unassuming two-faced monsters

As much harm as good

Aware of their ability to cause pain

I sometimes see people as all of these

Every object the face of its maker

And chooser, and user, and abuser

I sometimes see people

And I wish I were blind