Original poetry: "Nails", by bonzopoe

in GEMS3 months ago



They flee under my cuticles,
slowly but inexorably
as if they fear what is inside,
to what lives in this body
that I contain and contains me.

I cut them to disappear the evidence,
to hide the shame
of my body fleeing from my body,
of my interior externalizing
what I hide inside

Sometimes I pluck them to shorten their suffering,
to lighten the weight of remorse,
but they reappear and remind me
what it is to cling to life,
and what it is to refuse death.

©bonzopoe, 2022.


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