empty lines

Seams

Blood under my skin,
the blood of my ancestors
no longer in my possession

My heritage, my life-force
the ink in my veins
was stolen, or rather,
it ran away
far into the land
of fabric and dust
seams sewed shut
floating in a river
filled with baking soda

But minutes later
the clots finally formed
and the adventure was over
the journey lost
defeated, I crawled home
to see another day
drenched in bravado
but seldom brave.