Freewriting

Skin shed, I tripped over into the dirt. Dirty I came up, shedded naked. Vulnerable to my existence. There was a calling, I heard the old me weeping. She’s dead, my mind is playing tricks on me. I ran through the jungle barefoot, to feel the rough on my feet. Rain beat on my head, but I tasted blood and sweat on my tongue. No more does the dark stir fear inside of me. I sit in the dark with a knife to fight my demons.