each night my skin gets thinner,
as the skin on my hands and face
coincide, and wear each other down
a little more.

and it becomes colder
without the warmth of the
dissipated skin.

and the colors grow paler
and flush away as the eyes close
til morning breaks.

when the morning comes,
they laugh as we pass hand in hand.
and our weak smiles to each other
radiate the emaciation of
our hope.

and the hold on each other's hand
is tighter, as we know we're all we have.

they think we're holding on for love,
but it's deeper than that.

we're holding on for dear life.

and when we're alone,
we cry as all good people do
so no one has to hear of the great pains
good deeds bring.

we cling to what's left of morality,
what's left of our honesty,
what's left of ourselves,
every time our fingers touch.

and we smile faintly,
locking eyes
because we're all that
we really have.

and in our organs the emaciation
continues to eat us away.
but only slowly, nothing visible.

and we wake each day again.