the flesh of my forearm
is alarmingly clear
      at first glance it looks like
unexplored
fresh snow
     white and smooth
look closer
    see tiny pink lines
          fading into
                obscurity
it looks untouched
the skin has only the faintest memory
     of a blade drawn across it
            of beads and droplets
     of crimson and salt
the skin can no longer feel
       fingers wrapped around it
squeezing me into silence
skin couldn't see the pain
    and disappointment
             and rage
      in the eyes of those i
                hope
                   love
             me.


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