Poem -

Skin deep

I'm skin deep. To you I'm skin deep.
No more than a replica of thousands of cells.
Today I painted my face...
To hide the canvas of skin you're so familiar with to hide the touch of last night's dark presence.
Weeping at death's door;
Crying to let me in, because death's eye scorches the soul beneath all
Of
This
Skin.
Death and devil alike.
One's redemption for life.
So much to offer, so much to hide.
Lurking in gaps, in words of the wicked...
Melting the living wish from mirrors of chronically sad.
Sadness that tears, that rips at the seams of red shot cuts on the canvas of
People skin deep.

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