Eczema
Every morning I am reborn.
The flakes of dead skin envelope me.
Each piece of cold flesh—a memory of when I was happy.
I wake up reddened, frustrated and visceral.
A man turned a beast by his own hand.
My own claws pierce me uncontrollably.
The...
The flakes of dead skin envelope me.
Each piece of cold flesh—a memory of when I was happy.
I wake up reddened, frustrated and visceral.
A man turned a beast by his own hand.
My own claws pierce me uncontrollably.
The...