Fluorescent Bone

Three AM, pharmacy, too bright.

The cough syrup cold against my hand.

Caught my reflection in the harsh, flat light,

not pretty, just a stark, sharp land.

The overhead hum, a buzzing drone,

pulling every shadow to the fore.

And there, a blade, my collarbone,

a jutting line I hadn't seen before.

Exposed and white, beneath my skin,

a fragile edge, so thin, so clear.

Like every secret I'd held in,

suddenly laid bare, just standing here.