i remember how it felt to be destroyed and torn apart piece by piece inch by inch until we were nothing but a pile of bones. nothing in common, nothing, just wanting to delve into something deeper than skin. fingers spread like roots on a dirty mattress but they didn't do it for me, i felt lost but i let the thought slide down my dry throat. cold, i felt so cold, there was so much space between us, but i needed it to be that way, i couldn't let anything be too warm, if the temperature were to rise then i would burst. i hated myself for letting it be this cold, i needed a fucking sweater, but i couldn't bring myself to find one. the selfish parts in me took over and i accepted the cold, i shivered and shook and my bones lay out on display and all i wanted after was redemption and enough words in the english language to make up for this mess of bones.