A Mess of Flesh.

She was shy of eleven,
ten at the most.
Flesh upon ink
bled down to the bone
teeth pricking
nail dragging
grabbing her skin
and marking it her own.

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Your imagery is amazing, in all your poetry (I read a lot of the others too). You use simple words and phrases in a really powerful way. Good job!

Thanks a ton! ^_^ I try, haha.

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1 Review
Added on September 13, 2013
Last Updated on September 13, 2013
Tags: open, poem

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