I have parts of me
twisted like rotten roots
in drying soil
and parts of me
supple as feverish fruit,
thirsty for attention.
I am both
crumbling skin
trying to flee this figure
and sides so smooth
that they offer little hold.
I have broken borders
to be free
and built boundaries
to hide parts of me
I don’t yet comprehend.
All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly
Poems, Poetry, Poets
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Damien B. Donnelly 
I can’t imagine any part of you being rotten. 🙂
But we all have borders and boundaries.
😊😊
🙂
Yes . . .
Asking questions are really pleasant thing if you are not understanding something entirely,
but this article offers nice understanding even.