I’m still here, I think
I feel myself climbing back into my body
sometimes
I feel my cheeks filling back up with color
somehow
the voice that tells me to speak
is melting back into my heart
and away from my brain

and my lips
are non-robotic
my lips
are real

and I didn’t put on any makeup
and my face is mine, not a small glass bottle’s

I want everything
I want nothing

I’m melted crayons, I think
I’m mixing together
and I don’t care
because I’m warm
and melting

I’m mixed up
but make complete sense
like atoms
or balloons.
I want to sing.

I think my skin’s missed me.
I’ve missed me too.