my blue gooseflesh bores me
i lost my lens and i want to build a wall between my body and my blood
i painted all my nails so i would stop biting them
and i bit the polish off
i told everyone i loved winter
every year before i felt at home
i hate winter
it cracks my bones and i overthink everything there is to think about
i think in monochrome pastel
and it isn't as poetic as it seems-looks-sounds
when you feel like your whole body is turning against you
and your bones are shivering with a garish black
tar paint for blood
if god exists
i want a ******* explanation