Ramble 48: Skin; a poem


I suckle on tissues

My nipple like veins sucking on each drop of blood

I am the drumhead of the drums of bones

I disguise the music

I am a billion nerve endings

Each sparking an ignition

I am birthmarks, scratches, battle wounds and scars

You clean me but I remain stubborn

I choose you but you do not choose my colour

You smell me, feel me, touch me, and denigrate me

You emote your emotions through me

But I am only but a façade

A ring of clouds around an awaiting storm

I tell them but a story

A story of your past life

A story you shaped and will continue to shape

A story not mine

You scream and plead to me

Your inner voice howling my name

To let you free

But I do not listen

Because I did not put up those prison bars

I am just skin

Beauty or demon

Joy or sorrow

Veins and pulse

Tissues and cells

I am only but skin

Tomorrow in the grave


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