Skin

Tue, 02/10/2015 - 22:39 -- sbuck

I take my skin off, piece by peace

Slowly,

So I can hang it up

—Shiny like glass—

And look at the gashes.

They are burned deep by fears,

Coming so close to the surface

(But no breakthroughs yet).

I pack them with well-wishes and hopes

That feel like old, wet news(papers),

And promise myself that those words won’t melt

Before I can put my skin back on,

Seal myself together,

And make the darkness a temporary night

So I can dream

Uninterrupted by the pretend.

This poem is about: 
Me

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