NaPoWriMo 2024 — Day 7



Spun

I wake you up
with my hacking

All my disgust
comes up, soaks
shredded tissue paper

I deteriorate daily
& you tell me I am as beautiful as a fresh rose

My last breaths are yours,
I give you all of my gasps
as silkworms thread homes
in my hair

I worry the disease of vanity will kill me

I no longer recognize
this skin I’m in, but still
name my aches to gain
power over them

The other night,
the thorn I helped you
remove from your finger
felt like I placed it there

I apologize for existing
when your frets become
my unworthiness

forgive my inability to freeze time

I am cocooned
in the shame
of my age, webbed
in all my bad choices
& furious mistakes

will you be here
when the fever
finally breaks?


Photo by Mika Baumeister on Unsplash




Published by Jennifer Patino

Poet in Michigan.

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