Lost layers of yourself

 when you lose those crucial layers of yourself
The comedy of it demands a mirror obvious hate
When you lose that semblance of yourself
The one that pushed you on no matter how long you waited

replace it with something pretend done symbolically
feeling your hamstrings as you walk
Your wristpain as you write shambolically
waves of despondency a nub of chalk

At the center of you is plain organs

blood in veins, marrow in bone

External perception interrupted by memory

colored by preference jaded by trauma

When you lose layers of yourself
Joy leaches out of things
Everything is blunt and tasteless
Though you search for a point of everyday

By the end your throat is too dry to say hello
your disposition unsteady to hear it
you retire to the shadows
Give thanks for the small blunt and tasteless things