the space station hums with the early morning traffic, the wafting of coffee and fresh croissants filling the air. for the first time, you are not behind your desk, hitting your shins on the weirdly placed piece of metal, but strapping yourself insi...
there's a line of scabs right now decorating my lower right back a darker brown which stands out against the melanin concentration in my epidermis
there's probably more along my upper back somewhere on my stomach hiding underneath my arm
and although it's tmi I really don't know how I got those scabs
I didn't accidentally scrape myself with the blade of a steel knife I didn't bump into something sharp that scraped my flaky skin
somehow I'd like to think that these scabs come from a soulmate equally as clumsy as me who bumped into something sharp and now has a line of scabs on their skin
I'd like to think that maybe just maybe someone out there shares the same line of scabs on their lower right back
I'd like to think that maybe just maybe there's someone out there for me
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