Friday, July 22, 2016

Diagnosis

Let me curl up inside you
while you murmur
"Don't worry.
You don't have to do anything
No need to try
if you drop my name."
Let me drift off to sleep
to the hum of
symptoms listed,
A clinical lullaby. 

Let me try to rip you off
and scream 
because 
I thought you were a label
but you are really my skin.

Let me step around you awkwardly,
A scarf too long
tripped over by others.
I wish you were an accessory 
easily cast off, but
maybe we can live together 
if you're a tattoo.
You are not all of my skin,
Just etched into it
Sometimes covered
and
always worn.