Depression.

Rotten fish and ice caves. The hollowing of everything that composes you, a forced emptying of your strength, a belief that there was never anything there to begin with.

Boils on skin. The intrusion into your well of secrets. Burning your favorite books. Someone else burning your poetry. The itch inside your skin that can never be touched, never relieved.

Eternal fat camp, fashion camp, face camp, faith camp. A voice that never stops guiding you in the wrong direction, but you have to trust it – because it's your own.

Remember – your body is capable of lying to you.