I pick at my skin. Right now there is a small hole next to my mouth, just below my left cheek. I say “hole.” I think of deeper, darker holes in friendlier ground, soil that does not erupt with blood. This isn’t a hole in…
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I pick at my skin. Right now there is a small hole next to my mouth, just below my left cheek. I say “hole.” I think of deeper, darker holes in friendlier ground, soil that does not erupt with blood. This isn’t a hole in…