dijice scapulas

-my pretty pale skin has always been smooth, no flaws. like freshly fallen snow on the lawn in

the winter time. the same winter that brought the thick sheet of ice over the water of my favorite

pond.

-you came with your freshly sharpened figure skates and danced across the ice, gliding and

leaping. the metal scraped my ice and left little white flakes of snow all around. you were having

the time of your life, practicing your routine, which we both know you will perfect. -but you

haven’t yet. i know this when your blades dig deep into my ice and when you fall hard over and

over again until my ice begins to be worn down and finally she cracked. she split into a million

pieces until the blood of water came rushing out. you couldn’t get blood on your new white

skates, so you scrambled to get up and back to the frosty grass. with relief you got up, gathered

your things, and went to find the next frozen over lake to practice on. -i have always felt for the

pond, so as your blades pierced her, you pierced me. you hurt me, irreversibly