lousy lousy lousy. salty drops slipping in a stream of memory and fear down my skin. don't let it hit me. my flesh itches beneath the faulty glistening trails. this is the part that gets me. this is the part that haunts me. this is the part where i can't fall to dream because my mind is too grimy and frail. this is the part where i don't know what to do. so i let my fingers loose to the beating of my blood and hope my bones grow weary and shut my body into forced slumber. i'm   s i n k i n g.   so strangled. so weak. so me. i'd look to the moon, but she's a scar i've cut open far too much to heal. i wish my mamaw's soul were still in a body i could crawl to. it's been near seven years, yet i yearn ever ceaselessly & refuse to remove the black pearl caressing my finger. butterfly and eskimo kisses. FEAR DOWN MY SKIN. this is the part where i don't know what to do.