something is ripping off this bandage
I've worn
for many years,
perhaps since I was born.
layers peel off
one warp and weft at a time;
I can feel every hair
smart and pull
and singe,
I can feel
every pore that holds them,
being pried open slowly,
and nothing comes out
but this one shot of breath,
sparking the fires
that choke me;
unable to speak,
all I can do is shriek
and fall into that chasm
of dark silence
where there is no skin to hold me,
only the white emptiness
shrieking back at me.
I've worn
for many years,
perhaps since I was born.
layers peel off
one warp and weft at a time;
I can feel every hair
smart and pull
and singe,
I can feel
every pore that holds them,
being pried open slowly,
and nothing comes out
but this one shot of breath,
sparking the fires
that choke me;
unable to speak,
all I can do is shriek
and fall into that chasm
of dark silence
where there is no skin to hold me,
only the white emptiness
shrieking back at me.
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