Wallpaper
I swear I felt the swirly patterned paper
rip from the walls of my childhood bedroom.
It was the same stained cream shade as my skin –
pockmarked, cut and scabbed, dry and peeling –
and I felt it tearing, dragging pieces
of my grey flesh with it,
chunks of crumbling plaster.
They promised me it wouldn’t hurt,
but I screamed when I saw the bare brick
of my bones for the first time,
my blood coagulated as dry grout.
A sharp spirit scent as they cleaned the wound,
restructured my flesh and sinews smooth,
then stitched the seams of my skin
at emergency speed.
Joseph Blythe’s prose and poetry has been published by Stand, Pennine Platform, Grist Books, Swim Press, Allegro Poetry and more. He holds a BA in English Literature and an MA in Creative Writing. He tweets, Instagrams and Blueskys @wooperark