the sunbeams
are losing their weight
the sky wears so thin
what keeps me alive now
was never there to begin with

under distortion do I love myself
only by spells is my face held
what grows below the surface
might best be shown and molded

am I cold?
should I be shaking?
should I be at a loss for words?

my body contorts with thought
until itself it breaks apart
just as I'm wrought with despair
I'm writhing in agony