Blunt Force Trauma

Location

I'm naked.
There are those that hide their bare bodies
from the world
with cloaks of satin curtain hanging from their skeletons.
Those that prefer to mask the skin they find
unattractive,
unbearable,
unloveable.
There are those that bruise the relevance of their true selves.
I'm naked.
There are those that look at me with
disgust
pulsating in their eyes.
Those that spit in my direction, throw me their gasps,
simply because
I'm naked.
There are the ones that reach out to touch the scar tissue
raised on my skin.
Those that swing their hand across my bare face.
How can one be so
disheartening,
disaffiliating,
discombobulating?
There are those seeking to drink the tears they force from my eyes.
This raw skin
is me.
All these scars
are me.
Those tears aren't shed from two holes in a mask.
Those tears are me.
My flesh is tough as leather.
My heart gets stronger
with
every
beat.
I didn't inherit a fancy silk curtain
to hide myself
from the world.
Therefore, I continue to walk,
to dance,
to sing,
to speak
completely and unashamedly
naked.

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