You make me shed my skin.
Each day involves
You delicately stabbing my barriers
With your razor nails.
Each gentle swipe rips away another layer,
Like a giddy Wolverine in a game of pass the parcel.
What do you find underneath that
Encourages you to continue?
Is it a wooden spoon or
A ring of flaming hope?
I know what I feel and see, but
That’s as subjective as
Like each line perceived differently by newer eyes,
Each layer and day that peels away is recognised by me in sweet subtlety.
You take from it what you will and
Keep your nails clean.