Oddities of flesh
Pale and sickly
Necrotic, peeling off
Craving death so near
But if treated with care,
It will glow like fire
Radiant, vibrant
And it will be so
Impossibly beautiful
Full of vitality
Powerful
But, it must be
Treated with care

I felt the emptiness
of the universe in my soul.
It bursted into living flames,
even my skin burned.

I could barely breathe,
demons had colonized my soul.

I had been living with this
exhausting feeling
for so long, my eyes
had them painted
as to show their most beloved treasure.

They told me,
“do not dare to act like you do not deserve this”.

Who are these demons
wearing my skin?
I might explode into meteorites,
to extinguish what surrounds me, what I loved.

you crawl inside my veins,
clog my circulation,
stop my heart

you cuddle inside my bones,
rattling the mirth of me,
stopping me in my tracks

you sneak inside my mind,
clouding my every waking moment,
stealing my brain cell (one at a time
with every side glance in my direction)

you steal inside my ear,
your voice a whisper across the room,
your sound resting on my shoulder

you sit upon my lips,
dangling your legs from my tongue,
your name choking me every time I see you

you curl up between my legs,
your voice, seductive to your significant other
bothers me so

you scratch beneath my skin,
always a need at the back of my neck,
forever pulling me in while pushing away

you cloud my subconscious,
so every time I drink, somehow
your my designated driver

let me poke your heart,
as you stab mine, shredding it to bits
just so you might see me

You buried it with your skeletons. Refused to show it. Why’d you hide it?
Bury it deeper, so I keep digging for it. Where’d you hide it?
Why you playing this game with me? Burying me with your skeletons. Cradling me in the grave you made.
Ten feet under. It is hard to move. Air is running low. No where to go.

I showed you my art
expecting an "ew"
But then you rolled up your sleeve
and said "I draw too"

i watch the ink run down my arm
the pen, writing the feelings
i could never explain with words;
sitting on my bathroom floor
never led to anything
but unwanted art

My skin peels
and in the places reborn
I apply products that charge me for beauty and self-esteem.
This isn't really what I need.

My skin peels
the salicylic acid burns my flesh,
but it whispers, “I am not the pains
of my father,”
and I believe it.

I stand in the mirror
and lock eyes to skin.
You are not the pains of your father.
You are not the pains of your father.


My eyes refocus, and I realize
I've been talking to myself again.

My skin peels,
and in the places reborn
what's underneath is revealed:
Raw flesh and parental issues.
When will my showers clean me instead?

you look at me like you might drown in me
a body of water, to rinse away the exhaustion
you look at me like there are depths you've yet to dive into
uncharted territory
you trace the inches of me like there will always be more to love
like you will never grow tired of the skin I'm in
I've grown up knowing that my body is a temple
but I've never met someone so dedicated to worshipping it