The whites of my eyes have grown grey.
Lifeless; sullen.
The pinks of my cheeks fade away.
Razor blade carved.
My jawline has edges hewn sharp.
Skin; stretched and scarred.
My stone face; clenched, frozen and hard.
I forgot how to feel alive.
I haven't felt in a long time.
And I've been dead long before I died.
I don't see what you see.
So please stop looking at me.
I can't see the forest for all these trees.
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