tomorrow

you know you'll feel the same
you'll want to rip your skin
from your bones
sinew and muscle

it's almost like
this isn't you
it's something even more haunting
even more horrible, morbid
and sick.

this new skin you acquired
when, you don't know
nor where or how or why,
but it's too tight
and too heavy

like tissue paper
doused with oil
so tender and so


unwanted.

and pain seems endless and yet
fake
when you think of peeling your skin
and spreading your old, frayed wings

and tomorrow
every step closer you take
to that place
and him
will be one more beat of your heart
that hurts that much worse

and every step
brings you closer to what you
don't want to face
and what you don't want to know
or hear
and what you want more than anything
at all.