Open Wounds

Proud canker on succulent lips. Flaunting the bacteria that resides in us all. Revel in its ferocious display. We can't always hide it. So become.

The sore.

We are poisonous and putrid. Moreso below the skin. Those ulcers are always there. Just sometimes they show. Us. The world.

Hidden wounds emerging. Long dormant volcanoes suddenly erupt. And it's not the defect. It's not the ache. It's the exposure we fear. Naked with the lights on in front of every stranger.

Let it show. Sometimes you can't hide it.

Juggling all these diseases that make up who we are. We're bound to drop one sometimes.

Feel it with your tongue. Teach your face that it's there. Don't try to hide it. Become.

The sore.