Challenge poem.(I dont write poetry)
I bit and scratched and tore
till the corner of my thumb was bare
pulling away a translucent sheet of myself
easily and quickly replaced, if I’d let it
But for now I’ll make use
And make do with what I’ve got
My newborn fingertips folding their brother
In to form, slowly but surely, working.
It takes hours and hours and maybe a day
But it’s finished now, for good.
Another piece of my self made beautiful
For you.
