It's nothing
I tell them.
My dog did it,
we were playing and he
accidentally scratched me.
I falter when I say this.
They say
ok, whatever you say,
and half-believe me.
But...
I shouldn't have blamed
my dog
because I was the one
holding the glass
between index and thumb.
the one that made my
skin puker up to the jagged tip
of translucent shards.
the one that made skin scab
and said 'it's nothing', and blamed my dog.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I know where your coming from.....I blamed it on a bush once