I am so very dried up. even St. Ives lotion can’t stop my skin from cracking, inside and out.
i’m terrified of crumbling. what if i collapse into a pile of rocks? what if bits and pieces fall off each day; an ear, a nose, a finger; until i’ve left a trail of me to no where? or what if i just turn to dust and blow away?
bring me rain; id rather be mud than a multilated statue.