Oh body. You are red and raw. I feel you like the rough bite of cord on flesh, deep sharp pangs of what shouldn't be weary but is. Every task weighs heavily. Wrinkles etch around my eyes, deepening by each day's constant drip drip drip of stress and fatigue. If this is 25, I feel unsuited for 26, and tearful at 27. Youth should be light and silky but it isn't.
This week would have killed me had it physical fangs to match it's figurative ones.