The Other Skin

I prefer my other skin

My other skin I’m often in-

In which cuts bleed a blinding gold,

And solitude is for the old

 

I prefer my other skin

Its painted with a thousand grins-

Stretching out across the void

Break open over the noise

 

I prefer my other skin

I much prefer it to its twin-

Black lacquer layers block out the light

More vacant than a moonless night

 

A wakeful ghost cries in my veins

Slivers of old indigo stains

Ink spills from eyes filled to the brim-

I much prefer my other skin