December 10, 2023

Skin

Marks on my body expand until

it is all layers of scars

On heals and that’s room for more

any open space

has a predetermined use

skin must open

blood must run

The original color of my arms

is unknown

It is pink and red and flesh

but flesh that has been abused

It has been ripped open

countless times

to the point where I never thought it’d close

But it did

and here I am

sitting here

wanting to rip them open again

My mind sings:

“The blood must flow”

who am I to disobey my mind?

It has wronged me before but

what about

when I wronged it

I can blame these scars on other people

but I made them

They are because of me

These scars are me

and the realest part.