Thursday, September 23, 2021

don't pick at old scabs

 a stranger to myself

estranged in my own skin

ripping me up at the seams

or so it seems


salivating at the mere

thought of shaky knees

engulfed by my sorrow

running with bleeding heels


body that breaks when its

'posed to heal

hindering the cascading shadows

of sudden apocalypse--lips tender


only the faintest whiff of

a starved poet's tears

will suffice in the bargain

of a dying devil's last wish


still i long for a

body i can recognize

amidst the crumbling tragedy

that is my own

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