soft skin breaking off in flakes
brown and white
revealing pink pigment underneath
sensitive and new
aching through and through
hiding anger inside these thin walls
useless and meek
drowning my fragile mind in nothingness
dazed and empty
slipping through and through
left arm throbbing now and then
temperamental and weak
pain magnify by movements
tender and breakable
damaging through and through
gently easing back into the living
tired and down
seeking sleep in the dark of night
jumpy and moody
awake through and through
tumbling along this wrinkled path
unlucky and spent
time no longer in its place
slow and unchanged
waiting through and through
For Cafe Writing - Option Three
Unlucky
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these are words that I write. enjoy. 
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Those are words to savour - and to read over again.
Your I promise blogroll list is now up at PWB. Check it out and, if you can, comment on the blogs tommorow. Hope you enjoy this program. It is a nice way to meet more poets.
Thanks for taking part.
Sara
I really enjoy this. I really enjoy your poetry.
I really like the first stanza, especially the first 3 lines. It feels very nitty gritty--like something I should be feeling when I dissect something in a bio lab! :)
Thanks for sharing! :)
You know, my left arm is throbbing right now. I fell down in school sometime back. I did not break anything but my ligaments must have ruptured.
I like thia a lot.
anyone interest to know - this is something I wrote about having shingles which affected my whole left arm and hand - which is still on going. sigh.
ambiguitylotus - how odd that you compare this to dissecting something in lab class - I suppose there might be a comparison on the first stanza.
Thank you .. I really enjoyed your poem
There's something very Keatsian in the line:
drowning my fragile mind in nothingness
I enjoyed this "through and through".
my pick-3's are up here:
Merger and Oh!
beautiful ache....
'Shingles', I was searching for that word. Good inspiration! Get well soon. Take care.
Very interesting. At first I thought it was about abuse, but then it took a different direction. I agree with the lab comment earlier... that first stanza is very scientific... lending to an interpretation that the narrator wants to remain emotionally removed from the pain.
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“The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts.”
Marcus Aurelius (Roman emperor, best known for his Meditations on Stoic philosophy, AD 121-180)