sometimes the depth of some wounds can only be known
after they begin to heal, as the scab thickens
four millimetres into my over scarred epidermis
sometimes i lay, in sickness, chronically, aching to be freed,
from the weight of existing in a world
that thrives upon the imprisonment of souls
sometimes in the midst of monsoon, i find myself exhibiting
my despair, spread behind my damaged shoulder blades
and bleeding self-esteem
and when there is nothing in my mind, but silence that tastes
like the disintegrating atmosphere of Pluto,
i'm no longer the creature i was supposed to be
like a plethora of unwanted colors and smudged identities
fatally embossed into the tablets of destiny, almost permanently
untitled, like a dream
image belongs to me
![Smudged Sfumato-[BC]](https://image.staticox.com/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fpm1.aminoapps.vertvonline.info%2F8493%2Fcd3da043163d46309b6d2a558001342b80b9ccdar1-1440-1080v2_hq.jpg)
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