cw: body horror / gore // The Horror Thing: a poem about recovering from seeing something particularly frightening, and coming to terms with those feelings
I see you when I close my eyes.
A thing that isn't, but very much is;
a representation of something I cannot comprehend.
Pulsating mass of flesh beneath a porcelain exterior,
You taunt me with your uncomfortable camera cuts
and distorted audio
and heightened contrast.
I begin to understand
when I let my mind wander
under your porcelain skin.
My thoughts flow in the blood vessels
venturing across your strange organs.
I see you when I close my eyes,
but I understand now;
you are a piece of art,
a thing that isn't, but very much is;
a representation of something I now understand.
Your desire is to be understood.
