I internalize my reds
though they find their way out
through the pores of my skin -
each pore, with a voice like a mouth
that's hungry, that roars and pours
the essence of survival,

do I have to crave life in the chapter of death to feel alive?

Drip by drip, I drip
unknowingly, in solitary,
drip by drip, only to anticipate self-destruction
drip by drip, to become half of who I was
drip by drip, I've dripped dry of I
and no one seems to notice the bloodless being
losing the essence of being, a being.

- Kaya Su