I'm in a very pensive mood, when I get like this I sink into a somewhat platonic level of complacency, this makes it very easy for my feelings to just flow from me like ink on paper, this is just something I've written out of boredom;
This shell is my facade,
And unbeknown to most, hidden underneath is my skin, in all of its fragile glory.
Removed, released, penetrated, it would be left with no cover, nowhere to hide.
However, hidden it remains,
wondrously frail,
perplexedly scarred,
disturbingly untouched.
I bleed,
I hurt,
The unseen scars remain, the cuts grow deeper,
My true form; oddly reserved, nearly suffocated,
And yet undeniably real.
There, hidden, is my skin,
I wait, hoping to be freed, to be seen for what I am,
This is ugly,
This is beautiful,
This is my everything,
This is my skin,
This is me.
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