BUTTER SKIN | Lucy Hurst’s poem explores the abrasive nature of existing in illness.
by Lucy Hurst
the thin plastic sheath slices a hole in my skin
it crawls under and seeps itself inside
ebb and flow
runs me dry
harsh summers, harsh winters
i’m told to try harder,
i’m told that life is hard and i have to try harder.
i’m scared of things to come.
dim lights and twitter in dark mode
50 accidental deaths through electrocution
#10 will shock you.
she’s seen it before
watch me wash it down and tightly grip the cup:
charcoal, salt water, lemonade.
spite feels like good motivation,
heartbreak can be done all by yourself if you want it enough,
my spelling is atrocious,
& red is not my colour.
i feel abrasive in the sunlight.
Lucy Hurst | @lu_cyhu
Lucy Hurst is a short story writer and poet, currently
studying for an MA in creative writing.