I can imagine reaching the tips of my fingers past the perimeters of my eye, feeling the slickness grow tighter, curling my fingers around and grasping it. I can imagine slicing my cheek from ear to ear, and watching the limp flaps of skin separate, widening my mouth. Running my tongue along the edges to feel the difference of between warm, wet, and cold air. I see myself holding a side of one cheek in each hand, my thumbs in my mouth, grazing my teeth. I see myself slowly pulling them further apart, feeling the skin membranes gently tear away from each other. I can hear them, a low ripping sound. My skin is soaked in blood, it thins and loses it’s hold. I lose my hold.
Author Notes: Any comments/suggestions are really appreciated! I'm working on writing longer pieces, but recently only snippets of imagery come to mind. Thank you :)
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United States • 18 years old