44 lines
1.1 KiB
Text
44 lines
1.1 KiB
Text
|
skin
|
||
|
|
2018-08-29
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
***
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
I want to tear myself out of my skin
|
||
|
|
and paint a pretty picture with the pieces
|
||
|
|
stretched out like canvas
|
||
|
|
like the last vestiges of my patience
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
I want to escape this skin
|
||
|
|
and remake myself as something beautiful
|
||
|
|
something ethereal
|
||
|
|
incomprehensible to this world
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
but instead I'm stuck here
|
||
|
|
along the filth and squalor
|
||
|
|
breaking my back for someone else's profit
|
||
|
|
expendable at the drop of a hat
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
and there are ghosts hanging in the halls
|
||
|
|
not from nooses, but from hooks meant for picture frames
|
||
|
|
a portrait of every person I'd be leaving behind
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
but would it really be leaving them behind?
|
||
|
|
after all, it was mere chance that our paths crossed
|
||
|
|
and would any of them come to my aid in case of an emergency
|
||
|
|
I know I don't have any money to spare (thanks, college)
|
||
|
|
so I doubt they would have any either
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
like I said, mere ghosts
|
||
|
|
shadows of people that exist somewhere out there in the real world
|
||
|
|
but, most likely, far different from their bodies
|
||
|
|
utterly disconnected
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
I want to tear myself out of my skin
|
||
|
|
and rearrange all the pieces into a mosaic
|
||
|
|
that shows who I am inside
|
||
|
|
or, I should say, who I want to be
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
***
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
|