Unearthed from the abyss of many many feelings during -The Dark Times. Daming feelings ate My body is a puzzle many have attempted to piece fragments together. Yes, I allowed them to. Even you. We played the game. Many tries. Different rules. Changing characters. And yet, all those times, I lost. I was left still a puzzle: Incomplete. Broken. Damaged. Bruised. Hollow. I was a fool to believe you they had the perfect pieces to fit My awkward-fitting cuts My stone cold curves My impossible patterns. Pieces that fit. Pieces that hug. Pieces that make you feel whole Pieces that make you feel alive Pieces that make you feel enough. Hugs that keep you warm. Awake. Safe. No. Not you. Not anyone. Not even me.
n. a kind of psychological exoskeleton that can protect you from pain and contain your anxieties, but always ends up cracking under pressure or hollowed out by time—and will keep growing back again and again, until you develop a more sophisticated emotional structure, held up by a strong and flexible spine, built less like a fortress than a cluster of treehouses.