The Unveiling

I started at the corner,

where it was already lifting,

the adhesive tired of holding on.

I peeled it slowly—

not ripping,

just lifting,

feeling the resistance

before the give,

the moment it decided

to let go.

The skin underneath

is pale.

It's tender.

It's been covered,

and now it's exposed,

and I feel it all—

the air,

the awareness,

the vulnerability

of something that was protected

now laid bare.

I could peel the whole thing off.

The corner is already gone.

But I'm pausing here,

holding the lifted edge,

feeling how much

it hurts

to be revealed,

how much it stings

to be uncovered.

There's a wound under here.

There's a reason for the bandage.

There's a reason I was covered.

I'm not ready

to see it yet.

I'm just peeling slowly,

getting used to the exposure,

to the way the air feels

on the part of me

that was protected.