Whenever I daydream, it's usually about ridiculous things. Like the impact all the lovers in my life have ever had on me. The beauty, the ache when they leave me, when they break away like a splinter into pink flesh. How does something so small end up being such a noticeable part of you? It sinks in and peers up from underneath a thin layer of skin. At first it's not too bad, then it goes deeper, it has more of you. And when that slim metal tool pulls it out from your tough skin, it breaks through, breaks away, leaving you open and harmed, and hurting. Sometimes you bleed. For all, that hole remains. Skin eventually grows back, but it will always be there.