human

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house of cards

and the house of cards collapse from a slight breeze.

they’ve misunderstood my artistry.

Never fitting in. Never being like them.

From long hair to bob, the times keep on changing.

I’ve protected and locked myself up at the same time.

my ribs are not enough to protect my heart.

It has always been a reach to be who I am.

I don’t really care. Not now, not ever.

December – once a month of snow and happiness, now a month of silence and nothingness.

imploding from within, my skin melts and my bones crack into tiny white shards. MILD GORE/BODY HORROR WARNING.