Saturday, 1 August 2020

Smruti Sridhar, Poetry 2020 Second Prize

Rebellion: Skin, Flesh, Bone and Blood

My skin is pealing itself away
like little curls of chocolate.
There is no need for this cover.
the flesh beneath is just
the right kind of raw to be
broken into.

Little paper-cuts slice into my flesh,
desiccating. Deviant. Misunderstood.
Slipping out of reach. Melting away
until there is nothing left but
bone, blood and witchcraft.
The beating heart.
Throbbing veins. Overflowing hair
and defiance.

With what is left of me I stand.
A revolt against the system.
Anarchy.
Sticking out – a sore thumb,
wounded but not broken.

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