Report Blog Entry
scaly man i am
I peel the skin from want.
Hang it over the chair like a molted thing.
It still twitches, remembers heat.
In the mirror, I am all edges.
No curve survives the cold.
I move like glass cracking,
like something that refuses softness.
I dream of scales, of dry sunlight.
My pulse thins until it becomes thought.
Each beat, a confession I cannot make.
Once, the body burned.
Once, I was human enough to ache.
Now the flame stutters.
I keep it in a jar,
feed it prayers until it starves.
God watches from a distance,
hands folded, merciful in theory.
I want to ask if he loves reptiles,
if salvation applies to what has forgotten touch.
There is a guilt that hums beneath the bones,
church-bred and sweet,
a taste of iron on the tongue.
I mistake it for holiness.
The body is a wound I refuse to reopen.
I let it scab into silence.
In another life I was warm,
I swear I was.
Someone’s breath once fogged my ribs.
Now I only hiss,
flatten against the stone,
and call it peace.
Comments
Displaying 2 of 2 comments ( View all | Add Comment )
s0nd3r
Your writing and choice of music calms me so. It gives me a sense of security reading your poem, like I'm in a hotel reserved only for myself
soupferret
Your writing is incredibly captivating1!! I found myself immersed almost instantly, and I very much enjoy the themes surrounding what you write.◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜
thank you!! i'm glad you enjoy it!!
by sheep; ; Report