it feels like the skin is at war with itself,
fingernails as artillery,
and i hear them whispering like these pinprick bullet wounds
aren't critical until i can feel the pain-
but there is a bomb that will go off inside of me

i can feel the clock ticking down inside of me so loud i am vibrating,
it's so loud you can see my hands shaking

and bruises bloom like flowers on the cemetery my body is becoming
and i can feel my blood being replaced with embalming fluid

"stop this" i moan,
and she says back, "just stop yourself"