i smell
and i’m so tired of being around myself, but it feels so good to be in my own company 
and i know someday that’ll fade, so i must keep this momentum going— or, lack of momentum going 
.
and the way i see myself in this moment isn’t nice at all 
rather it’s a macabre, see through, polyester facade of circles, all with varying color that seek only to defile me into my absolute nakedness 
and tho i wish i could say otherwise, i help fuel it 
.
my destruction 
my isolation 
i bask in the feces of my own kind and sob and cry and wail in tears of sorrow, as it is that i cannot fathom why 
.
and in the duty of my own line of being protective for myself against threats of the nature that would defile me into the rubbles of the darker aspects of my psyche, you would think i’d take better care of my body 
but i don’t know how to
and i don’t know if if care enough to try anymore
.
i have failed myself 
and this much i know to be true because i can no longer see myself as anything less than beautiful 
the mirror no longer lies and i can see the fine lines on my face 
i know that i am aging
i know that things are changing
and everything finds itself rearranging
they are more engaged than i ever found myself to be
they’re so good at compartmentalizing
© Fae 💕