What should I title the poem, please?

When young, we wrote our stor­ies on
our bod­ies, ink and paint and felt-tip pens
We scrawled our life in scribbles.

We shoved them deep with needles,
made holes to fill with glass and metal.
Our new nar­ra­tion.
Cre­ated tales to show each other.

But all we did was spread
the lies out. Fight
against the signs of time, we scrawl
in wounds and scars and wrinkles fill with blood.

We race to make a story
before our hair falls out, our skin
goes limp and grey.
We waste away.

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5 thoughts on “What should I title the poem, please?

  1. Pingback: See how the metaphor continues in the title? | Fingerwords

  2. I like it all now apart from scribbles, which seems super­flu­ous given the verb… and sounds like “dribble” which is a hor­rible, hor­rible word… that’s just me though.