It hurts.
It hurts so ******* much.
It feels like ice in my veins and splinters in my throat, and nails, and heart-
and I’m done with it.
You were supposed to love me.
I* was supposed to love me.
I want to peel the light from my skin and sit there, raw,
so you could finally see just what it feels like.
I’d be a sore on your eyes like you we’re upon my back, and heart, and mind.
And maybe,
just maybe-
despite the pain from my body
I would feel okay
within my head.