A torn piece of skin,
Bloodied and not too pretty-

Shall I post it on this website,
For others to touch and play with?

They wouldn’t know where it is from,
Or who tore it.

But they’d possibly read more into it than
You or I ever could.

So then shall I?
A clenched face as you read this?

Why?
Some kind of violation is it?

Of some weird secret code
That has woven its way between us?

To hoard the past and
Live on the crumbs that fall from those old moments.

Perhaps it is that storehouse that I want to raid
And donate generously

To one and all who wants to live a vicarious pain
And exhaust the pleasure I ever felt from it.