SUGAT

This is not a moon nor a volcano. It's actually my sugat. Looks really yucky but that's it. My human flesh exposed and in grief. Actually that's my tuhod and the wound i got from my latest bar scandal in Puerto Galera. I hurt myself.

It doesn't really look like this. At first. Like a patch on the floors of the moon and like someone shot me. It had been brown like shards of old skin rescuing each other so as not to put my flesh in a vulnerable state. You know how insides can be very sensitive to all the ugliness outside. And it has a knee point of view.

Last time i had a wound like this was in grade three. I was dragged in a moving tricycle somewhere in Quezon City. Awful wounds. Really ugly. Whitish pus like matter with hints of moisture rich blood red. It proved to be a delight on my part since i always shred off the brown thing that builds up hard, the one that makes the peklat or poknat for that matter.

And this is what i did with my new sugat. I shredded it off in pure delight. Killing time and killing ugly thoughts. Shredding little by little from the outside to the core. Made me happy. Made me feel like a kid on top of a mango tree. Saliva drooling happy since it was kinda hurting when you shred off the eye of the wound.

And if you really look at it. The wound seems happy. It has the pout.