Sharp pangs
Stab my stomach
On my back,
In pain.
A hole inside of me,
I am not complete.
My vagina is a gateway for the other.
I want to take a needle and pierce the eye with red thread,
I want to sew together the lips that engulf my emptiness.
Red.
Flesh.
Raw.
My external skin is tough,
But my insides are not.
I am permeable.
I am vulnerable.
