Why do I feel like a knife has cut into me?
Each day, I put on my coat of flesh; its bloody and raw meat exterior crawling on me.
The stench of the worn skin and blood makes my nostrils tense as my face shrivel and I hold my urge to puke.
I staple the skin painfully onto my muscle, I feel the need to put the needle-gun down but, I move beyond my will. It feels as if my mind has no control over the flesh that is playing me, marionette-like almost.
Call me the puppet, for my puppeteer is artificial and decaying. It's structure is no longer preserved and yet, I choose to sew it onto me each day...
If I am different than everyone else, it makes me feel misunderstood. My red muscle and flesh-less body gets stared at and made fun of by everyone. I feel like an outcast... But something always tells me it's alright.
My obsession with this self consciousness will end, along with my stay with the flesh bag on my body. Just like it did to me each day I chose it, it will get the same treatment.
I cut it off of me, limbs and organs in sequence. The pain is unbearable but, someone has to. This is just one day though, what will come of tomorrow?