Unzipping My Skin

Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

Poetry is a physical,

invisible source of light

that peeks from

holes inside of us;

it is a voice for the

physicality of eyes and fingers

and a product of the process

of healing from little scars

and gaping eyes and ears

of small children.

A “journey of a nervous impulse,”

it is an untreated spasm

sifted in neurotic channels

and recorded in words that flip

Webster’s dictionary,

leaving it to wander

aimlessly.

A poem is the insertion of

ideas but mostly parodies

from someone else’s mind

because all of the memorable lines

have already been written.

Why, then, do I continue

to unzip my skin

and let others peer inside,

all the time wondering

if I revealed

too much…too little…

or just enough to make them wonder?