Skin CellsA Poem by MollyI can feel them pull me down, Dragging at my skin with their dead weight; A thousand tiny corpses smothering my living flesh. I scrape at them, pull them with my fingernails, scrub my skin ‘til it’s raw, Anything to eradicate the little beasts. They raise their ghostly heads in tearful supplication, Screaming, pleading that I let them stay. “We were part of you,” they cry, “Remember how you loved us” But I feel no remorse. I am a cruel, merciless tyrant, killing the old to save the new. It’s an animal act of self preservation, Ruthlessly attacking them with unfeeling soap and water. I feel them there, crawling like ants, A sign that I’m slowly dying, And entropy will eventually defeat me. I fear that some day I’ll be too tired, Stop scrubbing and pulling and skinning myself alive, And be suffocated by the dead cells I’m too weak to remove, They’ll all come back to haunt me, fly up from the drains I washed them down, And my past will finally consume my present. But for now, I am just strong enough to defeat them. I step out of the shower, pink and triumphant, Look at my skin, shiny and new. But I know it’s only a matter of time, Before this too must be torn away and forgotten. © 2010 MollyReviews
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Added on September 27, 2010Last Updated on September 27, 2010 |