Only In Metaphor...
2003-09-02 @ 6:49 p.m.
You winced at the shock of pain that rushed up your leg, up your body, and started your eyes watering. You eyes watered, and the salt tears overflowed. They ran down your cheeks, now pink and stained, pink like the socks, pink like the flesh, and fell onto this self-made wound. It stung.
You're skinning yourself alive, but you're loving every minute of it. No longer are you confined by this skin that was thrust upon you. No longer are you confined by this skin that limits you. Striking down at limitations, you peel.
...and peel, and peel, and peel.
You've broken free from the confines of your skin. Pink-fleshed, wincing, stinging, you're free.
Only in metaphor do you break free, only in metaphor.
Listening to: "Combat Rock" by Sleater-Kinney
everything © Claudia (2003-2008)