unfinished poem

jerked from the page
like a scab from an
unhealed wound

I am the unfinished poem

I cry out:
“Finish me,
I am a mangled bloody mess,
encase me in my skin!”

people look on the outside
and unless my heart is particularly fine,
it will not be analyzed

but at least give me skin
a covering!

unfinished poem

iridiscente

Guatemala City, United States

  • Artist
    Notes

Tags

poem process

desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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