Feelings.

Heat melting the skin. Early summer sun shrinking into a torch and pulling itself near the pores, kissing the skin until it drips, layer by layer.

Itch crawling on the hems of a dress, piercing the skin like the feet of an insect, shallow enough to be tolerated and deep enough to irritate. Thread growing into thorns.

Hunger scraping the walls of the stomach, worsens into starvation but fails to identify a food. Discomfort settling at the pit of the stomach, drying the mouth and making the throat gag.

Pain thinning into a scalpel cutting through the chest. Regret sharpening the blade and twisting it in, deeper, and deeper, and deeper.