In darkness,
I’m consumed.
I presume
that this is my tomb,
not much room
and did no one think
to invest in a broom?
Seriously?
I feel my flesh start to itch
as I scratch away the layers.
They twitch on the ground
and make their escapes.
All the shed pieces of rotten meat,
like millipedes with lots of feet,
stuttering away from me.
I regrow new flesh,
to cover
the bone and sinew.
Stronger armour
than the previous skin,
no arrows will pierce this thing.
I stretch it out
to cover every inch,
around my belly,
it starts to pinch.
Could lose a few pounds, I think.
I slowly repair the parts of my brain,
that have been damaged again and again.
The bits that have been
left exposed in acid rain.
I cut away the dead cells,
those long hurtful farewells.
those days where it felt
like walking in hell,
and I fill up on happy thoughts.
Like walking under waterfalls,
talking without feeling
like I'm stumbling
over every word,
scared that they
will be misunderstood.
I fill up on picnics
on lazy days
in the suns glaring rays,
on the possibilities
that skies
are not always grey
These things all take time,
some days the blinds slip down.
Sometimes I'm not fine,
but these days
I'll write a rhyme,
a poem to remind me,
that in life there is beauty.
Thanks for reading
Please take a look at my new collection "Torn Pages"
100+ all new poems not shared here before.
https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages
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