Tuesday, March 3, 2020

Two skins

I have two skins
One that you can see
and one that I can feel
One that shows
when you are here
and one that stays when you are gone
One that gobbles your sunshine 
and one that changes colors
no reason or rhyme 
When I’m alone I feel it 
snake across my surface
one scale at a time
as if it’s always been
and it has

This wet suit
soaked in the juice 
of rotting fruits
that no washing
can completely wring out
Holds old thoughts 
sealed in
Squeezes new thoughts 
sealed out
The outside 
burns and peels
grows back again 
Resilient and brilliant 
Protecting and keeping 
the inside in

No shaman
No saint
No demon 
No fairy
No shrink
No phoenix 
No potion
No emotion 
No logic
No moxy 
No reading 
or bleeding
can cure 
this chronic rendition 
of slow motion 
Hotel California 
This fun girls
version of 
Time After Time
It’s a never ending record 
of Bye Bye Miss American Pie
that plays in my head
just for me

No smudging
No incense 
No chanting 
No meditation 
No prayer
No masturbation
No exorcism 
No incantation
No cynicism   
No interpretation 
No Palo santo
smoke and mirrors 
can chase the ghost
for the ghost is me

Matured eyes
give me double vision
Insights of my insides
that are not welcome 
but always at home
Two skins
One that holds all the wrinkles 
and one that holds all the sins
Demanding my attention 
when all the spectators are gone
Maybe some day 
I will learn how to skin myself 
from within 
hang the hide out to dry
so the sunshine 
can finally 
get in

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