Eyelids, edit 2

[cjchaffin]

hiya crow. what i enjoyed most about your poem
is that it immediately crawled under my skin and stayed there
until i scratched it out, which is a good thing.
i like a poem that sticks around until i say when it's time for it
to go...that being said, i have a few comments and suggestions to use or lose:

Eyelids

Eyelids

You could run into the field of corn. <--a perfect way to open, sets the visual up immediately
You would hear the crisp snap of the leaves shattering upon your advance.
You would smell dust.
You would get tiny, itchy cuts.
It would feel still and uncomfortable, and
you would be self-conscious because even though running into a corn field seems natural, and maybe even wholesome, it isn't done, and the rattling sound betrays you,
and what if there are corn snakes? <--at first, i hated this sentence, because it felt too manic. but after several reads, i actually think it's crucial to the poem, because it is manic...
You could stop mid-stride and echo-locate the road fifty feet away. <--and because the previous section is so manic, these next three lines were a big let down for me. i would cut them and drift right into the madness of the next strophe
You could stop mid-stride, and huff an pant, wondering at yourself for this queer election.
And you could whistle for an hour, there, just to see if something interesting could occur.

You could pretend to be mad in a public place.
You could stare at a red object intensely, worrying about it.
You could masturbate in a gas station bathroom.
You could wash off with pink soap.
You could ask permission first and, after hearing no, cause distress by going into the bathroom for normal reasons.

You could cry out in pain. You could do it whenever you decide it would help.

You won't.

You'll continue to not be on the roof of anything--your car, your house, a crayon rendering of your house.

You could ask irrelevant questions to the pretty girl until she ceases to be joyful. You could hate yourself, then.
You could carry yourself through Minyards as if in no past life were you ever once a slave. <--i don't think this line adds anything of value to this poem. do you really need it?

You won't. <--the repetition of this phrase feels gimmicky and forced, and frankly, it distracts from the strong narrative you have going. use it once or not at all, imho.

You'll continue not to have past lives, or important secrets, or the ability to wink charmingly.
You'll have this life, and shame,
and you'll try not to blink when they come for you.<--and we come full circle to the poem title, which is very satisfying to readers like me who crave cyclical themes