Lonely hands gripping arms, with fingernails bitten down to the bone that cut with jagged edges,
Arms crossed, still and unable to move lest they make their wearer vulnerable,
Sensitive teeth, that can only bite down into lukewarm emotions without making the owner wince,
Split lips, that speak words of being okay made of plastic,
Dull eyes, like gemstones that had long past lost their shine,
Vocal cords, rusted shut from lack of use,
Decaying legs, with bits falling away because they haven't gotten out of bed in a decade,
Cowardly fingers, that won't move to ask for help,
A dysfunctional brain, that plays the same tune over and over and over like a broken turntable,
A fragile body, falling apart like cracked porcelain,
And thread, somehow still holding it all together.
