The Body

I have found you in this small room, neatly tucked away in the closet so no one can see you.

Never have I seen a body tremble so rapidly. Much like the movements of a leaf when it takes off in its autumn wind.

You’re hand clenched on your pharynx, gasping at the sight of color around you. There I witnessed the rotting teeth sunken in your gums. Those same teeth that spit out lies, the lies I wish I never heard. The lies I wish I never believed.

When you collapsed I gaped of fright. Yet I was not surprised, bodies of glass can only stay unbroken for so long. Yours had already been cracking.

I ran to you, as I always did.
Careful not to pierce my skin over your silhouette of shattered glass.
I couldn’t hear you utter a single word, you lay silent and still on the floor.

I tried to save you. Prying open your chest to find a pulse, only to find frozen flesh disguised as a heart. It was too cold; no warmth could even melt it.

It froze your lungs; it froze any chance of honesty to be circulated in your body.
I always understood why your body had always been so cold, but I was still in shock of this horrific sight.

As I touched the skin I used to hold dear, it withered into sand.
The sand that scattered over the ones you claimed you loved.

It reminded me of my childhood. How I would take my time and build a beautiful castle and then I’d let the waves destruct it.

You let people take you, giving yourself to everyone, and they would leave you demolished.

Your body became a defeated castle crushed by reality. Neither my mending nor my warmth would ever be enough.

When you passed, I did the same with you as I did in my childhood memories.
I let the waves take you out to sea.
I watched you wash away.
There I realized, your body was worthless to the sea


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741