friends

coloured monsters and brainless veins floating in dense air. they tap my eyelids and scream for an exit, ALWAYS SMILING, ALWAYS LAUGHING, AND LOOKING AT EVERYTHING WITH THOSE HUGE BLACK PUPILS. i know them because they are my friends, because they live inside, but i'm afraid to let them out because my friends tend to mistake me for wood and try to carve little drawings in my flesh. i'm so full of scars already, proof of their artistic expansion through the years.

what can i say, they are my friends.
there's still some space in the back of my ears.