a healing scab on her wrist
ignites morbid curiousity.
lights a flame.
a soundless aneurysm erupts in my
mouth and my words die,
leaving me with the burning of my
cigarette in my hands as my only
the crisp paper curls back when i
breathe in the smoke, leaving a
black dust behind.
i want to be pulled back, layer by layer.
i want to see what is underneath.
i am nothing but dust trapped in skin.