Poetry

What Is Written Beneath the Skin

The Bone Writers

By Jesi Scott

 

All you see is what you think I am,

No more than that.

And you think I don’t understand

So you talk of things in front of me

 

Never knowing I hear what you say

And understand what you don’t,

The invisible mask you think you wear

Reflected only too clearly

 

To those who see you as you really are.

We live through each other,

A ripple effect with pebbles

Thrown from ghosts in the shadows,

 

Lives entwined into a miasma,

Tangled ribbons,

Where I begin and you end,

My face on your mask,

 

Both of us on display

In a world that reads our epitaphs

On our foreheads.

Jesi Scott is an aspiring writer of novels, a poet, and blogger. She has guest-blogged over at The Well-Tempered Bards, and has a post featured at For Love Of…. Jesi has two poems published in Memories of Mist, a literary anthology, and one published story in a newsletter. She is currently working on releasing her first poetry collection as well as writing her first novel. When not writing, Jesi can be found getting lost in bookstores, singing and dancing around the house, experiencing culture with friends, and generally having fun with her four sons when they aren’t driving her weeping into her closet, which she calls her Padded Cell. She loves to rescue stray bookmarks, as well as books, and has opened her heart to any and all stories needing a home. Archery is her current favorite thing ever but you might want to stand back a little as she still has a tendency to drop the bow occasionally.

3 Comments

  • Lizzi

    Kinda creepy but a little reminded me of a post I’ve seen shared about autistic kids still hearing what’s said about them when they’re nearby, even if they don’t respond.

    • Jesi

      I recently finished reading The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan and one of the stories in it talked about being a ghost while another story talked about people assuming one can’t understand because they are foreign. I was struck by both and it came out more as what it feels like when I’m having a depression cycle. I sort of feel as if I’m trying to unravel an intricate knot but it just becomes too much sometimes.

    • Jesi

      And the real point of the poem is that we’re all more than one thing inside and we show one face to the public while hiding our real selves, which we write on our bones hoping people will see past the skin. But ultimately, we show who we are subconsciously (hence “epitaphs written on our foreheads).

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.