Yup, Still Depressed

I want to unzip my skin from my body and hang it out to dry.

This skin is no longer serving me.

It has seen too much. Weathered too much. Been used too much.

I need a break from my skin, let someone else walk around in it for a little while. 

My mind would be so free without the burden of this skin.

Imagine the me that could exist without the scars I carry around,

without the fingerprints of my abusers,

or the stains of my mistakes.

Today, this skin is a prison.