heavy body...skin

Bruises on my hands, bruises on my knees, bruises on my ego,

Rotting emotional wounds can’t heal like week old scabs.

Sloughing stale skin to uncover what I habitually ignore.

Festered issues channeled through torn tissues,

Exuding a putrid presence.

I finger scoop and lick saltwater from my eyes,

baptizing my body to cleanse lingering infections,

Repairing my punctured pride.

Introduction to my new series heavy body.

In this series, I’ll be deconstructing the human body into five parts: skin, nerves, muscles, organs and bones, illustrating the body’s response related to mental and physical health. Basically - giving our bodies a voice to our battles + bullshit. If each part of our body could tell their story, what would they say?

This week I wrote a poem on skin. I can’t say that all parts will be poems. Whatever the mood is and what comes to mind will be written.

Thanks for reading my shit.

peace

alex b.