Her skin was gone again. She didn't know what had become of it- which dusty shelf they had put it on, or if they were off in a corner playing dress-up with it, but it was gone. It was such a disorienting feeling to have it off and to not know where it was- at first. Now she was getting used to the sensation of being no one... or being not herself. It was hard to tell who she felt like when her skin was gone.
It's easy to lose your skin when you are busy doing laundry, making dinner, cleaning up toys, reading books, laundry, wiping noses, finding lost matchbox cars and doing laundry. It's almost as if it has gotten mixed up in all that laundry and somehow disappeared with all the socks. I guess that's what it feels like- a mateless sock. You are purposeful, but limited.
And it traps you. You can't leave this place, no matter how up-side down you feel. You're trapped because you've lost your skin, and you're trapped by love. Love that shows itself in laundry, making dinner, cleaning up toys, reading books, laundry, wiping noses, finding lost matchbox cars, and more laundry. You are purposeful, but limited.