the hatch is open

i dress up in yesterday's clothes

and feel the weight of the pain i left on my sleeves

the bane of my mind on the loose strands clawing on my skin.

i am tired, in body and mind, my entire rattling being,

hearing whispers that seep out from my sleep,

from the core of my thoughts when they are unshaken and still.

i do not respond to them

because something will break, otherwise.

i speak to my mother, putting her mind in place

to feel like i am still capable of healing broken souls.

i cough up my regrets and too many words said,

trying to retch out enough until there is

nothing more left in me to dispose of,

and begin from the outside in.

sometimes, you need to deconstruct matter

to allow creation,

and as i look out the peep of the window,

i find a world not meant for me

looking in

and decide that the only way to forfeit this pain,

is to forfeit this world,

collecting the leftovers of its leave,

to fit under my shoes.

only then, will i be able to lay new skin

over the wounds that are now

stark and open,

like the truths i never learnt to face

in my reflections.