as cold and as pale as my fingers tend to be tonight they were kept warm.
newish feeling for me.
not by another person necessarily,
I dunno.
sort of...
every time a lie was spat, another one of my fingers got released onto the counter only to be stuck to the stickiness of the situation.
energy in petty lies brought warmth to my body with, "I'm fine"
"I feel fine"
my pointer finger tapped.
"No really. i'm awesome"
my fuck you finger found it self being pulled towards the finger fucking finger.
"i'm so much better now"
so many lies. so many motions of my fingers racing towards the counter with the hope of being broke instead of just a mere sign of anxiety...depression...weakness.
deeeeep breaaaatheeee
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