little crypt keepers

picking off scabs- to reveal dazzling, burning scars of

multi layered, colored, expressed pain.

WHY does this hurt?

fold origami shapes, around my heart. lungs.

fluttered paper cuts along my abdomen.

draw blood from places

not yet felt.

i remember your stone face

shards of glass

mixed into the

cement of your skin- so every time you reached inside of yourself,

you got ripped apart.

it's like how, little kids

jump into pools

jack-knife

without worry.

or how,

i can lay in

darkness, for hours

upon hours.