I know what it is. It’s just sugar. The way that I’m feeling is nothing to do with my feelings. It’s just on account of the way that sugar is making me feel.
My face is a mask of bone. Inside my mouth is a reservoir of spit that I can’t push out and I can’t take in because my lips are frozen in place and my throat is embedded in bone. Maybe I’ll drown inside here.
Branches that swipe across my face make me think of insects getting inside me even though I know that they can’t. Because I’m bone. But they itch as they move across my forehead. At least, I hope it’s insects walking there. Because if my skin was itching for no reason then what would that be?
People walk towards me and I pretend that they don’t exist. If they try to prove that they do exist by some cheery ‘hello’ (because they don’t understand) then I might nod. But that’s like nodding to my imagination and I don’t want to go there. To avoid that I’ll turn and walk the other way. As if I’ve changed my mind. Maybe I have.
It’s times like these when I think of moving out and moving away to a place where the people who think they know me can’t find me. I know that it’s wrong (that I’m wrong) but it doesn’t matter. It’s just the way I’m feeling right now. Unlovable. Who’d want to be with something made of bone and unlove? No-one.
Tomorrow I’ll smile. But for today I’m locked away. Don’t try to find me. It’s not worth the effort. Stay until tomorrow. Stay your hand. Stay in your place. Stay. But just stay quiet. You don’t exist yet. Not until tomorrow.