I painted my heart with a dark slick sealant and felt the first fall back inside.
I left my head pounding,
pouring out the rows and rows of white.
I wrapped my limbs in cream and felt
the weight, dragging.
I watched my eyes wander and tried to trace their map.
I fell onto clouds, holding only onto stones.
I faded until I could only hear
staccato strums
and my mother's clicking tounge.

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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