I've felt tired and unable to breathe lately. My skin itches and lungs refuse from filling and even though it's december i find myself running to my room, losing my shirt, and opening the window. I enjoy sitting here alone, knowing it's only me.
I worship my own skin, sleeping in nude more often than not - my skin is my only freedom and I know that I don't even own the only things that actually are my own, and they are my mind, body and soul.
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