crashed
pieces
fall down
corrode
the smooth surface
keen fissures
seared into
perfect skin
feigning
unbrokenness
the sore illusion
cracks
shattered
edgy fractions
excruciatingly
carve
softness
i
still
feel
each incision
ailing
bleeding
open gashes
unseen
hidden
beneath
layers of
disappearance
shapeshifting
to
escape
commitment
smash
the covers
fall apart
to lovely
disintegration
crawl
out of
shed skin
sanguine
up to the
next
collapse
This is sublime writing, Wildflower! The images complete your words. 🤍
I love the word “sanguine” …and its darker cousine too.