In no matter does your flesh encase you more than your soul. You're a beautiful being, and all you want to do is take it off. You want to shed your skin. You want to become whole.

There's a fluttering in your ear, a belittling tickle from within. You know now that it was never meant to be this way. You were always destined to show what you are beneath, where the sight of red taunts you so naturally you can't help but hesitate, yet burns so judiciously you can't say no. You're beautiful. You now, are whole.

Though still, you feel cold.