Let it be known that below my hard exterior I am cherry taffy being pulled with every step

Let it be known that my skin is mailable and my tissue is raw despite my bandages

Let it be known that I’m oozing melted sugar that stained my wrist red and my teeth grey

Let it be known that I am sore from the twisting motion that stretches my words so they don’t come across as they are

Let it be known that I have scars that are not invisible but are always concealed

Let it be known that I have wounds that are gaping and open but never revealed

Let it be known that I am brittle and cracking and cold and curdled

Let it be known that I am wondering what the Hell I should do now that I failed at giving up