The dictionary describes bokeh as a Japanese term for the subjective aesthetic quality of out-of-focus areas of a photographic image. Bokeh is my life in all its indistinct purity, unhinged by bullies, abuse, alcoholism and bulimia. I have vulnerable lacerations. Meaty guts are exposed and blood seeps. I hide it well, behind a cocoon of fat - my body, my coffin. I will die here, inside this smothering flesh that has grown to protect, yet asphyxiate me. My heart still beats. I'm surprised since it's been ripped from the cage of ribs so many times. My lungs still breathe, albeit constricted at times. Humor is a great tool - a perfect mask. It hides the real pain that takes a free ride along my blood's path. I didn't know these wounds still stabbed... until I picked at the scabs. I thought they had healed by now, but once that hard flaky skin was peeled back, what hid beneath it oozed, spilling inner turmoil. But not much longer now... the end is near.
