Sharp
 

And it bleeds, I know my dear. 

Pick up your weary head while I snap

these here shoulders back into place. 

 

You need a sturdy body to support

such a beautiful brain.

Laughs and thick black aura,

why does it lie to you? 

 

I shake my head

to rid the dark tease. 

Constant questions I ask myself

and they itch my skin at night.

 

Tend to your wounds

and I'll hide mine. 

I swear they don't hurt,

they just heal for you

under my sweater

in the dead of summer. 


Melissa CareyMelissa Carey is a poet and amateur photographer from Windsor,  Ontario, Canada.
Different mediums may call her name but it seems to be writing that draws her back each time, always open to new styles and growing them over time. 
Her partner is an author living in Wisconsin. 
She is a proud Pansexual woman. 
She is a chronic illness warrior as she manages fibromyalgia daily while not allowing it to dim the shine she wants to share with the world. 
Her muse is anything from her love to the way the sunlight hits your one eye when you walk past a building. 

It is her calling.  Her poetry appears on NationalPoetryMonth.ca.