Myth of pain by juliet martin

Is it a myth that pain confirms that you are alive and responding to the outside world? You hurt me and I know I am not alone. I don't know how I feel about that kind of reassurance. I would rather you love me in solitude.

Fingertips by juliet martin

Tingling skin and chattering flesh. Tingling flesh and chattering skin. I don't know what sounds like your hand in mine. My fingertips have needles carefully tucked under the top layer of skin, making a five-pronged pin cushion, a little puppet to keep me from being alone. I draw little faces on my fingertips. Now I can look them in the eyes and they can look in mine.

Foggy by juliet martin

A little twitch in my dominant eye makes you flicker just a bit. Lowering that lid, you become half-full and foggy. I'm not sure if I want that to clear or just imagine what I want you to be. The sun will rise and dry the air and I will see you and not my fantasy.