pink and clay
sand and bright blue
turquoise, like your spirit
pricked by the agave
my bruises make sense
my cuts are from something
my scars are faded
i wonder if anyone sees them
do they make me tough
or make me weak
hold me up to the light
this is me, this is me
i don’t have more
i’ve told all my stories
my head feels inside out
you can see anything
aug 7
No comments:
Post a Comment