Edges

There are days when there are no edges. I blur into the air around me, skin unable to hold me in. I smudge at the corners – leaking out and absorbing everything beyond. The world drifts in and passes through, dragging my insides out as it goes. I try to scoop it all up as I pool across the floor.

It feels like I’ve left a bit behind, slipped into a crevice, or held on too tightly to something else that doesn’t belong. A curious feeling is left where nothing seems to fit, something is lost, nothing is defined.

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