skin
BY CYNTHIA CHEN
you and me
we’re just skin
peel the seven layers back one by one
and discover we’re just skin and flesh
nerves and blood
cut, you bleed
pinch, it stings
thoughts and prayers and feelings and dreams
may be interspersed in between
but they’re intangible
they don’t come as real as skin
doubts and guilt and bad thoughts and regret
overwhelm my mind
but they’re all in my head
they don’t come as real as skin
goosebumps are pretty lies
chilling me from the inside
i may want to, but i can’t hide it
sweat and tears are almost indistinguishable
but i can always make them out
when they mix with your shade of blue
words are mere surface burns
too dull to leave a scar
i’m the real injury
a wound to close
you and me
as a child
BY CYNTHIA CHEN
have you ever wanted to walk
on the ceiling upright or
crawl on all fours
it doesn’t matter because you just wanted to
be up there among the
lights and grooves along the edges
feel the popcorn texture on your bare feet
bare knees
and you had no trouble baring yourself to the world
but naked dreams are mere naked dreams and i’m
too scared to actually show any parts of myself
metaphorical or not
i’m just a little too long now to fit my bed
my feet dangle and so does my heart
my back hurts often and my posture is nearly unfixable
but i still find myself crouching, making
myself small to fit into the impossibly miniscule
closet underneath the stairs, a safe haven
maybe i can be even smaller
maybe i can still fit
maybe i never have to move out.