Jagged

Written by Jacob Ibrag

These wounds won’t heal. Cuts from years

past holding onto my present. ‘Maybe you want them

to stay fresh. A constant denominator to remind you of what

happened.’ These wounds look the same. The shape of a familiar

face, a carving made recently. ‘Nocturnal tendencies. Waking in

similar skin. The aware and jagged edges of an unconscious.’

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