armor (_) of the skin at which i rip with fingers hands longing to bite until red of the sleeves [covering scabbed arms]i rub across my face innocently for the sting of the jacket thick that i keep on when warm as final armor doesn't save from scratched cheeks nails paint pain whiskers a clown's mask of stupidity senseless aggrandizing pictures of mediocrity want to make another cliched destructive masterpiece until armor scars everything and soft fleshy brain doesn't care anymore then sleep will come armor all its own 060305 what's it to you? who go blather from