𝙄'𝙈 𝘼 𝙋𝙍𝙀𝙇𝙐𝘿𝙀.

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petunias blossom from the most tender parts of my ankles, i've become an écorché, wistfully shedding skin at the hands of renewal and rebirth. my fingers bury themselves into the soil, winding themselves into a temporary home. if once my body responded with ebullience at the notion of new skin, it now only sighs in acquiescence. time ticks away tirelessly as i unravel, the world looking on- mellifluously murmuring my name, tentatively tugging at my toes- bubbling with calamities more turbulent than the skies i once wished to call home. the vessels of my body curl into place in a gentle effleurage, the freshly birthed skin piecing together- fervently promising me better days and perpetual joy. so for a moment i believe, for a moment i pretend as if i will not shed myself another day. for a moment i play as if i have found a new home. petunias blossom from the most tender parts of my ankles. i cross my fingers in hopes that i soon find the liberation i seek. if not today- maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow, tomorrow.

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