Snagged
a poem against vulnerability
In anticipation,
and with a ragged metal key,
I sliced a mouth in my nylons,
only to find that they’d melded with skin,
and in ripping myself open to you I had unsealed my body,
carelessly peeled it apart.
And when,
through the fresh-teared skin,
came the things that live in the shadows of organs and bones,
the things that are only bearable in darkness,
I watched you turn away as they hit the light.
I threw the room apart in search of anything to fix the snag:
nail polish,
hairspray,
a needle and thread.
But I had forgotten,
in my haste to repossess you,
that my skin is not my stockings,
and the holes I leave are not so easily repaired.
7
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About the Creator
Emma Louise
22 year old grad student just trying to explore her voice through poetry.
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