all noises run dry around me,
I feel nothing,
nothing at all.

And I ache for something,
I ache for some kind of pain to know
this isn't

dissociation of being alive.

But my skin can only stretch so far on these
feeble, starving bones,

and my integrity can only bear so much weight at once,
before it collapses.

Before the only thing that remains of this deathful skeleton,
is a distant memory of lost friction