Crawling in this consistency, my bones have adapted to the transparent shell covering me. Give it all, give a minute  that has not been scratched against the surface. It's all I have left and I gouge full blood vessels from my neck, tie them in knots around your fingertips. Emptied every space in my head to fill with your emotionless sentences, I'm numb and these engraved concave images cease to pull me from the wreckage. I lay and I lie in it and with it. Time zones don't separate damaged particles as they float into our lungs, soaking up smoke.  A chance not took, lines meant to choke. Grab your self involvement and a glass of wine, burn what's broken or what we pretend is not alive and thriving off mirrored engagements. I screamed and bled on our ***** bed linen. You silently stared. Not a movement or a word was produced, in the wake of the sickness we just let each other crumble. Was there affection in this affair or did the abandonment we survived mask the situation entirely? If we had any self control we would see what's behind blackened eyelids, what's underneath ***** fingernails. Rip the others' limb by softened limb and extract thirsty cells for our own benefits. We are getting so good at this.