top of page

Salt on my skin

Today my skin cries,

It's been through tough times.

These tears are but salt

And flow.

Tears feel good.

These tears tear at me too.

But choice always makes a difference in pain.

This chosen pain feels cleansing,

The water comes out in absolute joy.

It's like my body screams,

And as it has no voice,

It pushes forth water.

The micro spaces between me and not me,

The pores which breathe in everything I have to bear,

They revolt, rebel, and throw out tears.

The salt you throw at my wounds,

Purges me,

And releases with the flow.

I look forward to this pain of choice,

Physical manifestation of efforts.

This flow is a validation of my control over myself.

Choices direct flow,

Choices make the impurities expel or expound.

And this body is the best manifestation of this choice.

Go forth body, cry.

Cry till the hands slip on their own face,

Cry till you can slip through any forceful embrace,

Cry till your definitions shine,

Cry till I shine.

Recent Posts

See All



bottom of page