Poetry

Self Portrait Next to
Frida Kahlo

There are no stitches where the scalpel sliced
through my skin. No red blood billowing
like a dress. No steel cage encases my body.
Iā€™m spineless.

My white blood cells seep
out into the world, disappearing
into the ethernet. My pain broadcasts
the evening news.


two elegant masks and figures standing together looking over their shoulders to the viewer, wearaing abstract dresses and blue jackets with a fan motif on the shoulder. background in blue and red.

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