This is me:
laconically bored
sitting in the stands
watching from above.
This is me:
focused on the moment
tracing a rune
across the killing floor.
This is not a mirror,
a simple reflection,
rather, a dissection,
a slow flay, where
skin peels off
in thin sheets until
only raw red bits
of sin cling to bone.
I am a myriad,
shattered.
I am a scar,
angry and raw.
(October 14, 2021)
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