What am I but a collection of
Mysteries and blood?
Someone thinks, I’ll unravel her,
Encompassing my worth.
I encase my own identity
Cause the curious-mongering
It’s in the way my veins decide
To sway and dip with the ocean’s tides.
Curl up inside my bones
Find the chips and cracks.
Realize I’m nothing more
Than a flesh-and-bloodied sack.
I’m not the girl with silver teeth
Who throws her head back and laughs.
I am the girl whose skin is deep
Which fissures when I bask.