I look
like phantasmagoria
and snow in August

I taste
like broken diamonds
and open coffins

I smell
like disillusionment
and another man’s cologne

I feel
like crushed snail shells
and every bruise you’ve ever had

I sound
like tights snagging on barbed wire
and all of the lives that you are too afraid to live.

Originally published on Hijacked Amygdala here [29/04/16]

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