black and blue

black and blue and read all over

in the pieces of me popped out in this mess

like straw holes in pie crust

made to allow hot air to escape

so the inside gets softer

or something like that told to me by good intentioned monsters

older than my desire to give a shit for their advice:

black light in the blues made to make the whites glow with more pride

than any of them knows what to do with…

so much like that feeling of knowing better

when that’s not the truth known by anyone.

 

the only thing i learned through all of this smearing

of one layer over the other

is when the pieces are cut out

i am just as dark on the inside.

(c) r. l. elke