Some days
she woke in her old skin
Torso deep in nameless wild yearnings
Teeth gnawing
at brittle strings that tied loosening bits of her to
loosening
bits.
Who would
have thought, emptiness could feel so tight?
Web tangled in
her vast unhappiness, spiraling down into the
dark foggy nothingness
of her being.
Her tired
eyes following shadowy fingers pointing at haunting ugly faces
Her every
breath a sharp lashing beating at her soul.
There are days
when she was living and days when she was trying to live,
it
astonished her how similar the two.
To open her
eyes each morning, her body weighing her down,
Bones too
heavy, limbs too numb
Tears under
lowered lids, burned with shame, pity and self-loathing.
Even her
feelings did not belong to her.
