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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1765402
by Ippo
Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1765402
I saw a bloody cuticle on my finger, thought I'd share.
Bloody Cuticle,
I don't remember your birth.
Chewing on my scarred thumb,
your red eye screamed at me,
"Look! You didn't even notice!"
Already dried, a fault quickly closing.

The stain won't come out,
it will be shed and destroyed.
There might be a scar,
I doubt it.
I remember the births of my scars,
but I don't remember you.
You are a button, not a medal.

© Copyright 2011 Ippo (makunoichi at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1765402