Soren Kaur/OutWrite
This poem was originally published in our Winter 2024 print, Freaks.
Content warning: needles, religious (Christian) themes, scars, self-harm
in the beginning,
the creation story foretold —
the second coming of man,
forged by his own hand
~~~~~
“scarring to forearms” stares back at me,
a note my doctor left silently,
(I didn’t think she could see).
my mom still sighs and she weeps,
sneaks to my room when I’m asleep,
praying for them to soon leave,
(but I understand her grief),
.
child abandoned in the dirt,
left with only blade to hurt,
sin of temptation wrecks her,
please God protect her further,
.
this promised body my soul within,
having experienced far too much abrasion,
my voice too high — my chest filled in,
perhaps injection will bring calibration,
~~~~~
I’ve long since put away my blades,
but now for the work that God forbade,
with this cottonseed oil I’m deemed man-made,
(They told me They still loved me when I prayed),
.
crown of thorns trailing in vines,
decorated arms with wounded lines,
to bring about a resurrection,
blessed with the art of creation,
.
this bottle with my death birth name,
my hand gripping thigh on edge of bed frame,
alcohol wipe unwrapped to fix the maimed,
cleanse the thick scars I previously laid,
compassion in this bandage readied for aid,
the motions my past would usually take,
now purposed with the healing I reclaim,
(renew a right spirit, to do away with my pain)
.
wiping off old acts of knife,
readying scarred flesh for new life,
forgive me for I have sinned,
whispered as the needle pierces my skin,
.
once a week I am given,
a chance to shape my being,
to darken my voice, lighten my heart,
to learn euphoria as my own feeling,
.
this essence of man allowing rebirth,
of a beaten body created from dirt,
following the truth of self I seek,
assembling my joy as a mismatched freak.
Credits:
Author: Claude Chung (He/They)
Artist: Soren Kaur (They/Them)
Copy Editors: Ava Rosenberg (She/They), Emma Blakely (They/She/He)