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Thin Skinned

Tonight I am thin skinned

Every word you say will bruise.

So I pull down my sleeves

and you will not see

the bloodied scars,

and I busy my hands

so you will not see

how much they shake.

You will not know my heart

is hollow with pain,

you will not know my tears

are not from laughter.

You will not know I fade away

with your indifference.

Tonight I am thin skinned,

and you will not know.


Some day my name

will slip away

and none shall remember

my laughter

nor the way I bowed my head

and wept.

Some day my life will blur

out of memory

and none shall celebrate

my victories

nor have compassion for

my losses.

For immortality is in

the tongue and speech

where legends are made

from minutae

stitched together in skeins

of fond memory.

Some day the echo of my time

will cease

and none shall hear the whispers

of my life

murmur like leaves on

forgotten pathways.