Exposure

I resent being invaded, but host all external invaders.

why push the oars through

fragmented waters of my mind

uninterrupted flow

of blue waves

belies unsavory secrets

lying below

where your oars

cannot reach

I disguise and rename whatever I cannot put out of sight

I prefer to call it

dark reflections

of disturbed skies above

forever changing colors

and hosting myriad clouds

casting shadows

on my calmness

I hate being unprotected, defenceless but continue to fight

I struggle

with my inability

to escape influence

sailing boats

trace painful wedges

on the fluidity

of my non-existent skin

raw exposure hurts

 

(100 words)

100 Word Wednesday

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