top of page


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


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. 


Cynthia Chen is a high school senior currently living in South Korea. She enjoys writing about anything and everything, from shower thoughts to 2AM ideas, confused feelings and old memories. Her poetry has previously been published by Pluvia Literary Magazine. Usually, the poems she writes are for her only, but now, she shares them with the world, hoping people cherish her words and the stories behind them.

This poem was first included in issue 111 of Pluvia

bottom of page