divergence

     I scratch
           the divergence
                   on sheer paper

                                                 raw
                                              static

          —no nuances

                                             merely

      black
         white
       the void
          in between

                                            —but

           underneath
       the words
   I rot

---

                 sore contours
                       scribed into
                           unsoiled flesh

    I set
     the blade
       precisely

                  to rip out
              the stains
       cathartic

               a promise
                     carved into
                             blank skin

---

                                            —sigils
                                                  to lock
                                              or open?

    I try
          to bleed out
                             the vacuity

            brittle sutures
                                  seal
    deep-seated wounds

                                              —I crave
                                                  for
                                          deliverance

---

            mellow sunlight
        caresses
   the stigma

                                   —now fading

    frail blossoms
          sprout out of
      fragile scars

                                     tingly rain
                             slightly nourishes
                          searing resurrection

---

           I grow
                  roots

                          to brace
                                myself

                            into the
                     solid ground

        stability
            engrained
                  in healing

---

Writing often feels like cutting myself open, dissect what’s inside and merge the fragments. I try to create beauty out of pain, to give this some value.