I love you more than my own skin

–  Frida Kahlo

I peel off my dried skin,  the last layer that has been there for too long.
The skin comes off,  hurts like raw wound.
I can’t bleed, just standing there to stare at my own skin, not knowing what to do.
Thunderstorm and raining,  I walk under the anger of nature with emptiness.
The first rain of the season smells like a fraudulent home, squeezes my heart,  spins my head.
It might erase everything else.
But you know what is worse?
That piece of skin,  that pain from peeling it
Hurts me more than the pouring rain itself.
It’s so sad peeling off the layers you built, 
That uneasy feeling- I cannot forget.
I hate it knowing that tomorrow,  the pain  will be another memory in the ocean of time.
No boat can be sailed,  no bridge can be built.
And my reflection on the glass will just be broken and varnished in the rain.
It was unreal.
You’re my Achilles heels.


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