Skin Show

I.

I see the crevices where my mind has changed route

Where the blood has stopped flowing and changed direction

To kill off the illusion of rage and hypocrisy

There’s a skin shed in the corner of the room

no one speaks of it but me

Who’s skin is that? Who was left so empty?

I cry and point and stammer on revealing my weakness

Telling them I can only be human and nothing more

Not a god, not a demon, but the pattern of survival

And the louder I plead the looser the skin

til it falls to the floor

Just like that one in the corner

then a sliver of light shines between the curtain

 

II.

Behind the scenes, behind the curtain

I reach out a hand stitched together

with puppets of skin.

They roar and laugh and join in in song.

What a masterpiece!

                                     Pure Genius

                                                                Everybody must sing!

 

III.

sometimes

Once in a blue moon

a shed human like me steps behind the scenes

With their skin in hand crying begging pleading to be loved

And the whole time I was begging and pleading with tears in my eyes

Hoping that just one other miserable misfit would shed,

step behind the scenes

And join me.

-Saschia Johnson

between the carpet and the comforter By Michael Morlock