By Lauren Breen
Wrapping my arms around myself,
I dug my nails deep into my back,
tore at skin,
pulling from the center out
until I was open.
The dust in the air tickled my exposed flesh.
My ribcage, a barrier,
my spine, an obstacle,
erode from the force of an escaping me,
which pounds against my bones
like hurricane winds against a palm.
And I was able to free
myself from myself at last.