The skin is old, Old as the hills
Older than time, Won’t let go
But no face lifts, No surgery
No peeling it off physically
Though… it’s kind of like that.
Old skin, saturated with old things
Embedded in the cells
Sealing in the grey
But now it’s time to slough the leperous skin
That no-one seems to see but me.
Old skin is the old ways
Old habits, old attitudes
Brought up with the negative
Programmed to live in the shadows
Time to shed old skin
And in its place
A brand new coat of flesh
Snuggled, cosy, comfy, clean
Like after a hot bath
The chameleon slips from the jacket
Hurt skin needs to go
And needs the complexion of her baby self.
She can have the skin of a new born and start again
Feeling untainted, undamaged, pure, good
But the old skin was comfortable in a sinister kind of way.
Sunscreen can’t stop the sun attacking this old skin
Can’t heal the network of sores
That built up over the years
What-iffing won’t make it better
There’s no bandage for this
No ointment, no cream
No miracle cure
Except to be like a chameleon
Let the skin fall away
Unbutton the pain
And start to live.