My bones moan and creak. They tangle themselves within my grief.

I thought I understood who I was, I thought I knew why I was sad. I am stricken by my own actions. A deep haze replaces my soul, like an everlasting ooze. I am consumed. Tar flows through my veins. It weighs me down, drowns me in an untimely death.

I run, and hide. I would much rather chew my own leg off than face my problems. Refusal, denial. I do not dare get emotional.

I harbor a secret that is scarred in flesh, down to bone and it has burrowed into my heart.