Sometimes, when the air gets too cold between my lips, I bury them into the palms of my hands. And sometimes when I forget I am not alone, I begin to let go and let go and let go. My body begins to echo across the rocky walls of my world. Bashing and clashing back and forth. A blodied body begging for more, no safe word in this unkept, ruthless condition I have brought upon myself. I lay here on stone, on rocks shaped like shark fins breaking through skin. I begin to end.