lay me to rest

I drape a towel over the heater and eat all my food cold and I never dry my hair and leave the windows open at night and my blanket is way too thin and I sleep without a pillow, face up towards the ceiling with my arms crossed over my chest like I’ve been laid to rest and the world has yet to call me its weakest soldier. and my heart still beats as my hands are folded across my chest and my eyes stay, wide open waiting for all the truths they have yet to confess; I don’t believe in healing. I believe your skin hardens and your lies turn into callouses and the truth will only leave you soft. I believe in hard-to-crack souls and bolded words branded in coals that emit the same warmth we cannot give. I believe in the lies they tell you at the hospital when you’re born, I believe in the smiles they spew when you are held for the first time and brand you with a name you’re stuck with for the rest of your life. I believe in the made up stories of seconds of joy where the truth escapes and you find time to toy with the lies you feed an infant to give them hope in the same life that births their demise.