what is this foreign skin encasing my essence, but a vast bruised slab of pretty-meat prison?
i awake, but only partially, slipping on or in a peach fuzz and soft silk complexion coat,
my soul hides away from these bones, my back wilts like a flowers stem, i am but broken doll pieces, a dark heart detached from a damaged body.
🥀. A/N: don't we just love ptsd and nervous system dis-regulation?!
