poetry

X-RAY (a poem)

i wonder what my
skeleton looks like
underneath all the
flesh and blood.

are my bones soft
and brittle, or are
they sharp, hard,
made of stone?

it’s funny how we
are all so different
when you look at
one’s reflection:

but then if you
pull back the skin,
open your eyes again,
no one is different.

8 thoughts on “X-RAY (a poem)”

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