frozen sculpture

36 8 4
                                    

frozen sculpture

december2twenty17

I painted flowers on my skin, to try and feel beautiful. they painted rainbows. the rainbows grew greyscale. the flowers withered. my skin looks as if its dying, and it is. as I.

I lit myself on fire because I was so devoid of warmth. I extinguished it because I no longer needed it. I was warm. but now I'm freezing, and I've lost every match.

everything is taken. I clutch it close to my heart and then it fades away. they're all pulled away, whether by self-design or passive malevolence from another.

I'm begging to be ill. twisting and turning every word into darkness. I am ill.

ill with cold. with numb.

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