I took a sip of something poison.

I was greeted by moonlight and static.

I scalded my tongue with hot tea, but continued to drink, like there was something hidden at the bottom of the cup. A mantra. A hint.

I'd do anything for a hint.

Sweaters don't feel as warm. Words wash over me like water around smooth rocks on a nameless beach. My kneecaps feel foreign. I don't remember what kneecaps are supposed to feel like.

I want to take my skin off. Literally and metaphorically. There's something raw beneath. Something honest and untouched. Born without a parents gift of scars and warnings. Guiding hands through narrow passages and fear for when the passages grow less narrow. Dreaded free will.

"That train has sailed."

I'll bore a hole in my heart. With knives and scissors and the sharp edges on words. It'll fit a compass. I'll get a sense of where I'm going, instead of only knowing why. Knowing why is to know what the end looks like. But knowing how is to see the journey before the destination. And sometimes you realize you can't get there from here. The road stops at the edge of an ocean, or trails off somewhere deep in the mountains. And despite the progress you've made, it's just as far as it once was, before you'd set foot on the path. Seeing an end when you close your eyes, does not mean you'll ever see it when you open them.

There is a lie somewhere. I can feel it. It scalds my tongue, and drains my sweaters of their warmth. It pushes and pulls at my kneecaps.

I have something to fight for. Pieces of coarse armour are slowly being secured to humble flesh. My shoulders are curling under the weight of steel and iron. The weight of purpose. Leather over thin skin. Very thin skin. A sword, with an engraved hilt. Shield with painted emblem. Colours bearing vibrance I only hope endures that battle. I can't fill my lungs all the way. The curtailed inhale of humid air is saturated with the smell of blood and dirt. That diseased taste never goes away. No matter how many times you swallow.

Is now a good time to ask how the fuck I'm supposed do this?

Everything seems just out of reach.

Your arms are longer than mine. But not by much.