the hatch is open

i dress up in yesterday's clothes
and feel the weight of the pain i left on my sleeves
the bane of my mind on the loose strands clawing on my skin.
i am tired, in body and mind, my entire rattling being,
hearing whispers that seep out from my sleep,
from the core of my thoughts when they are unshaken and still.
i do not respond to them
because something will break, otherwise.

i speak to my mother, putting her mind in place
to feel like i am still capable of healing broken souls.

i cough up my regrets and too many words said,
trying to retch out enough until there is
nothing more left in me to dispose of,
and begin from the outside in.

sometimes, you need to deconstruct matter
to allow creation,
and as i look out the peep of the window,
i find a world not meant for me
looking in
and decide that the only way to forfeit this pain,
is to forfeit this world,
collecting the leftovers of its leave,
to fit under my shoes.

only then, will i be able to lay new skin
over the wounds that are now
stark and open,
like the truths i never learnt to face
in my reflections.