New Poem

bugs too

it crawls
out of my skin
this bug
– the scar

it moves slowly
from my reach
like holy water
wasting itself through my fingers

I shrink back
timidly
and there it is again
trying to see me
trying to be me

I create myself
again
and take it in
the bug
the compass
that ticks

I open myself
permanently
lose hope
in redemption

it grows
inside of me
like new blood
floating around
the surface of things

it wounds me
convincingly
it opens a cavity
a hollow
meaningless
ardour

aren’t you afraid?
afraid of opening your eyelids
and finding
nothing
but your self?