i feel dead in my own skin.
i no longer feel
when you say
things that hurt me.
the stiffening chill
of death is rotting
my emotions.
i am becoming a shell
of who i was
because i don't know
how to give you up.
every time i say that
i love you
is just another nail
in my fucking coffin.
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YOU ARE READING
•metamorphism of me• [finished]
Poesíajust a collection of shitty writings from ya girl