February 06, 2003 - 10:29 p.m.
Not me, ME.
Knots, twisting and tightening through my body. My hands become ice sculptures, my spine a fossil, my stomach a cave full of rocks jutting out in every direction. And no one wants to touch a fossil, no one wants to hold a rocky cave, no one wants to feel icy fingers holding them...
Where did my spark go? I thought I glimpsed it in a reflection... But then the iciness returned.
I look at my goose-pimpled arms and see each follicle, each little hair poking out, growing from within my flesh, being choked by the icy tension of my skin: this is me. And one day there will be no me. I will not have skin, I will not have arms, I will not have a body, I will not have a voice. I know what it's like already not to have a voice. My throat was screwed tightly shut so young - I couldn't even scream at the nightmares around me. Silence has been my friend. I'm not afraid of the silence or the dark because the monsters can't hear or see me either. I have been my friend. The soft pulse of Me murmuring in my ears, comforting myself. I hear it, I feel it - my pulse. And one day it won't be there anymore... I love myself, I don't want to lose myself. I miss myself when I forget to pay attention to me... Hi me, it's nice to see you again, the doctors said you might be lost... You've needed me too haven't you? We won't listen to them anymore - you're alive now. Now. NOW.
Sleep, and when you wake, I will be here. Smile... Yawn... Sigh...
