The cracks in my skin reveal the truth.
The reality that I'm breaking.
My whole being is destroyed slowly
to leave the remains of nothing,
nothing left but a broken shell.

The hollow shell of an empty human.
A forgotten soul neglected in the corners of a dark room.
Left to gather dust and anything possible
to have some sort of value,
to find purpose.

My skin breaks away from me like it never belonged.
Cell by cell my meaning is lost
and that all is left is bones for dead.

But until I get to that point my skin will crack,
and will continue to crack until I'm gone.