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flowers with seeds of teeth
growing into the worst version it seems
dreams are premonitions
precognitive dreams
cowards in velvet coats
sowing the largest gross
scenes are withheld
sparse sparks set ablaze the truth held
it is fun, when it is free
all the skin owed to me
they come in twos, hurry in threes
all the skin owed to me
Love, a complex and ever-evolving force,
can be likened to the shedding of skin
with each passing season, rejuvenating the
spirits of the old to make room for the embrace
of new beginnings.

The ebb and flow of
relationships echo this continual metamorphosis,
as some individuals offer solace through
gentle caresses that blend seamlessly like a
poetic kiss, while others wield their words
with a sharper edge, concealing deceit beneath
the guise of intimacy.

Just as the gentle whisper
of a kiss may be heard, so too can the sinister hiss
of untruths slither beneath the surface,
reminiscent of a serpent's deceitful ways.
Steve Page Feb 26
I'm full of long complexity
in this shell of masculinity
You see a pale reflection
of the inner deeper me

I'm not a likely poster child
but believe you-me it's true
I span across the gamut
between them, us, me and you

Don't judge this balding grayness
by the pallid, saggy skin
Start an honest conversation
- find the truer child within
Started in a very different place and the fifth draft landed in a more honest place
I S A A C Feb 8
i feel my words are inadequate
to encapsulate my departed ways
i move into new skin
allow my part to change
in fluorescent lights and mirrors concave
i find myself within rainbow archways
i move into your skin
slip into simpler things
allow my heart to break
allow space to think
When your skin is darker than your past, you'll find
yourself instinctively seeking shade, avoiding the scorching
rays of the sun that seem to tarnish its complexion.
Its once radiant appearance now tinged with the remnants
of the flames, forever leaving a mark.
You may feel that all your imperfections persist, yearning
to be acknowledged and embraced, yet often remaining
unnoticed by the oblivious eyes of the world.
You, my dear, have become a surreal spectacle, captivating
the gaze of many with your unique blend of beauty and vulnerability.

In this collective exchange of glances, you discover
a remarkable unity, a deep connection that transcends
mere superficiality. It is as if each shared look weaves
together the threads of our lives, binding us in a profound
state of matrimony, where understanding and acceptance intertwine.

As we stand together, lost in the enigmatic origins of life,
it becomes apparent that your skin holds a story, an
uninterrupted lineage that stretches back through time.
It is a tapestry of ancestral struggles and triumphs, a testament
to resilience and fortitude. And like the night that envelops
the world, your dusky guardian complexion bears witness
to the strength and beauty that lies within.

But let us not be judged solely by what meets the eye.
Peel back this outer layer, delve deeper into who we truly are,
and you will discover hearts that beat with the same
tenderness, dreams that flourish within the obscure depths of
our souls. Don't let the label of "African child,"
confine us to a predetermined destiny; instead, let it be
a celebration of our heritage, a recognition of the richness
and diversity that flows through our veins.

So, my dear, as we navigate our way through this complex
and ever-changing world, let your skin be a canvas,
not only for the painted white of eyes that might cast
judgments, but for the genuine smiles that radiate from within.
Embrace your darkness, your unique hue, and let it stand
as a testament to the vibrant spirit that resides in the
depths of your being.
M Solav Dec 2023
It happens with all the holes and wounds: they grow their own face, mend their gaps, heal their rifts — those new skills of yours are but entities that emerge: to grant shelter, to stand guard, replace the old, thicken the crust, weather this human storm — through and through.

But will the skin ever return to its soil? It linger on forevermore. How tight its grip? How hardened its sappy brooks? When will it nourish those delicate roots anew?

These thoughts arise as doubt breaks free. It pours and flows as I gaze down and lower still. Shadows seep and leak as the wheel spins and drills the soul evermore hollow. Anonymous is our tree of life, but it keeps faces in store.

For it happens with all the holes and wounds: they bleed, they mend, they heal — and what don't they do as I stand here, as I bend, as I kneel — as I carve these seats in shapes of departure. Those skills thicken under my feet like growling tremors.

My past was but a dream — and I'm ready to slide like a crumbling leaf. My weariness is universal. My knowledge heavy. There cannot be a conclusion. I am growing thin.

Let me feed those roots anew.
Through and through.
Written on July 19th, 2023.

This picture was written to accompany a picture by Matthew Fertel (@digprod4). See the result at:

— Copyright © M. Solav —

This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact for usage requests. Thank you.
Sadie Grace Dec 2023
I wanna slice up my arms
Leave some real nice scars
Let the blood drip down my skin while I grin like a ******
Then go back in the store before stopping myself from doing more and wishing I had tore open a vein
I’m going insane
Guess I just love the pain
A slave to my brain
It just paves the way for another “episode”
Wish I could just explode
Or slowly corrode
I don’t know how to be with people
I don’t trust the man working in the building with a steeple
They’re supposed to be good but always end up evil
Doing **** that’s illegal
So back to my original thought
Now you know what brought me here
I wanna slice up these arms
Leave them nice and scarred
Cuz this life is ******* hard
And I just wanna feel something else
Marisa Lu Makil Dec 2023
Kiss my mind and not my skin
Strip me slowly of the walls I've built
Take my hands
And push me up against the walls
Of my soul
And learn every inch
Of who I really am
Until you know me as intimately
As does the darkness
That surrounds me
And the resonance of your being
Drips from my mouth
Like pleas for mercy
Thought I'd try a different kind of poem. Inspired by a random picture I saw on pinterest.
under the horizon
above the naked earth;
i'm half drawn to the sky
and half to my skin;
along with the flowers
of december, wilting.

but, It's half a fine day.
and I'm half convinced.
the day, is yet to end.
and if after all, i am failed;
to be fully drawn to the sky,
ever i lay to cold, until it warms.
in this flesh,
at its rawness,
inside these skins
and bones, all that I seek
and ever thirst for,
is peace.
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