my skin
no longer
has your name
written over it
yesterday i took
a shower and
watched you drain
with it
this paper skin
your hands tried
to slip
so quickly under
i've now reconstructed
into armor
you no longer have
any entrance here
you never belonged here
a year of shriveled
fingers and toes
and my skin no longer
screams
YOU ARE READING
the soft
Poesiathey say to be soft is to be powerful but it gets harder to believe that every passing day
