Skin

This could be a song…

Such a hard animal to care for, like my stomach. Like a million to feel.

I couldn’t find a thing to stick to. My mind flee again.

I have an addiction over skin. Noticed all the time lost in searching, and still not sure what I could have been doing. Addiction existed solid I have nowhere to run.

Maybe everything works for me, if I don’t pay that much attention, and maybe nothing works for me because I wish one thing work for everything. My skin is just like me. It needs everything and nothing. Confusing.

I wanted to cry because part of me just wanted to escape. I try cry but no tear comes out. Try to not drown in plastic or fur, try to not be an ignorant child to the earth. (this line is so good!! > <)

Antonio, always perfect, but even better than perfect with his fuzzy baby hair coming out in humid air. He is not happy, but I am in love with the mess in his hair.

I wish I love myself like I love him. What a world if we love our mess like we love our babies. What a world if we love ourselves the way we love our lovers.

That, skin, needs nothing on it, just a bit water, and we can breath again.