Stripping

i strip away

these layers

that make up

my many selves

i rip away

i flail and fuss

i twist and mould

these thin films

of both fact

and feeling,

i manipulate

a sheer veneer

of all five senses

inert or reeling,

with my fingers i worry

flimsy coverings

the appetising

and unappealing,

soon i expose

a raw nerve sheen

of hurt

and healing.

I cant spoil

and i cant break them

and so very carefully

i take them

ever so tenderly

i shape them

into ideas

into words

and occasionally

i may leave

something that shines

nestled amongst

so many

polished

turds