Please

Please don't assume your reality upon me. Please don't assume you know me, based solely on messages sent from eyeball to frontal lobe. Your synapses do not see beneath my skin nor through my eyes. Where you see a girl, I see a memory: weak, broken, silenced to the grave. I am a figment of your imagination, yet my skin is as warm as yours, my nerves as responsive to a feather touch or a snaking fingernail, drawing my geometry for the world to see in flaking dead cells