Weight

There’s more beneath the skin,
some unwanted secret
stretched transparent.
The only promises that come at the end
are laden mistakes.
I always wish
that I’d never given my word,
but nothing stays hidden
when it grows like a hangnail
to either run its course,
or be ripped out with your teeth.

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About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

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