Pushing out from the inside

A being wailing to get out,to be


And screaming, scratching

The insides of a conscience that once was the monarch

Of the being in the good old days

When hypocrisy was not a religion,

Merely a word to be despised.

I tear at my skin,desperate

to let loose. The skins

Hold on tight, the socially forged skins cling

Like cling film,

Handy and convenient, guaranteed protection

From wear and tear of  a conscience

That nags and pesters,cries out

For justice.

This modern society I tell you,

Finds solutions for everything, even a leaking conscience

Can be fixed.I run

The risk of being trapped within myself

For fool-hardy cling film skins leaks nothing

Including streams of consciousness

Compassion or guilt. The inner me wouldn’t last

An hour without the skin

Convenience is the new trend it seems

Cling film that clings and

Leaks nothing.Does not disintegrate

Like all good things should.

[Thank you so much for the award. I nominate Jesse Mitchell ]


One Comment on “Skin”

  1. this is a very awesome piece…and thanks for the nom. as well.

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