The Sound of Skin

Myself,

like water dripped my edges onto your leathery skin,

I asked you one question,

one simple question,

and you beat me with your lies.

My vision extends lines of gray that cascades over my soul like a waterfall.

Like a ripped flower,

plucked from my ivory skin too soon.

The bloom lost,

before its time to tempt me began.

I was a child again,

beyond whispers and glee.

Trapped again in a pink dress,

braids and buns.

I found myself strangely numb then,

almost forgetting the layers that will scar me latter.

Myself,

like water dripped my edges onto your leathery skin,

I asked you one question,

one simple question.