The Scalpel

[queeniegalore]

 

Sound becomes a scalpel

Sliding with ease into the ruined skin of me

Parting my layers, one at a time

Scars upon scars

Until my tissues harden like old, worn armour

And the calls of the birds

- who roam wild and free

and answer to no one -

Can no longer touch me
 

In any way that matters