deepundergroundpoetry.com
Where I Hide
Stretched over my bones
a flexible organ that leaves
my impression on the world.
The way I look.
The way I touch.
The way it holds me together.
The way it breaks when the razor
kisses it gently, spreading
bright red bite marks
over pale asphalt and marble.
It stretched for my son to grow.
Keeping him safe when my body was his home.
In my scars it tells the story of my life.
Every broken heart
Every shattered fracture of my mind.
Written in the pores.
In the cells.
In the fibers.
In the thread-like lines.
If it were to split open.
And peeled back to see the tattered fragments of my soul.
The real me, trapped inside.
Hiding among the bones and organs.
Behind the tissues and sinews.
I would be revealed.
The direct oxygen and sunlight would surely make me die.
It would kill me.
I am not meant to be directly part of this world.
And so I stay safe inside.
Wrapped up tight.
Looking out through mirrored eyes.
Covering my bones is my shield.
My cover--
My protection--
This pale apricot sheet covering my bones is my sancutary.
With it's scars and marks, and it's unwanted parts.
My skin is where I hide.
And no one and nothing is allowed inside.
*Written for the "SKIN" competition.
a flexible organ that leaves
my impression on the world.
The way I look.
The way I touch.
The way it holds me together.
The way it breaks when the razor
kisses it gently, spreading
bright red bite marks
over pale asphalt and marble.
It stretched for my son to grow.
Keeping him safe when my body was his home.
In my scars it tells the story of my life.
Every broken heart
Every shattered fracture of my mind.
Written in the pores.
In the cells.
In the fibers.
In the thread-like lines.
If it were to split open.
And peeled back to see the tattered fragments of my soul.
The real me, trapped inside.
Hiding among the bones and organs.
Behind the tissues and sinews.
I would be revealed.
The direct oxygen and sunlight would surely make me die.
It would kill me.
I am not meant to be directly part of this world.
And so I stay safe inside.
Wrapped up tight.
Looking out through mirrored eyes.
Covering my bones is my shield.
My cover--
My protection--
This pale apricot sheet covering my bones is my sancutary.
With it's scars and marks, and it's unwanted parts.
My skin is where I hide.
And no one and nothing is allowed inside.
*Written for the "SKIN" competition.
Published 6th May 2015
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