Stripped Down

The danger of people digging into your soul

Stripped down

My cheek to concrete
I listen to the shallow breath
Under my crushed ribcage
The cold wind penetrates my skin
Leaves its icy trail between my cells
My finger tips are bloodied raw
From crawling

I hear the crows closing in
On my wide open eyes
I am so small so exposed

When teeth sink
In the tender flesh of my soul



-SCT, February 2012