Light A Candle

Saturday, July 24

By Lane Bashline

Is getting out of bed a chore

Or is putting on my disguise a weakness

Why does my skin not look like yours

My body, not even mine


Since you hurt me I can't breath

The air is thick and warm

Humidity strangling me

Thoughts cutting deep


It makes me feel good to be mad

To be sad, to hurt others

Hurting myself is too much of a chore

My eyelashes falling out

My skin falling off the bone


Water drips down my face 

Salty and warm, unwrapping its hand from my throat

Then the scene turns to white



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