blue-faced
step closer, and i'll tell you a story. look, i'll put my hands on your chest. look, see how they go right through? see how i've grabbed ahold of something, caught between your lungs and your heart? watch, as i pull it free, unraveling like a string from a spool. listen, while i weave it around my fingers.
when a skill goes unused, you lose it. it is twice as hard to get it back again. when you don’t use your voice, you will soon find that you no longer want to speak. you are alone. this hurts you. this is not something you can fix, so you lean into the empty space and make a home out of it. you take the empty space and you put it in your chest, equalizing the pressure of the outside by matching it inside. the empty space hurts. sorry for not telling you. it'll always hurt.