He gets so tired sometimes that it’s like being seasick. Everything rolls out under his feet in exhausted waves and god, his head - his stomach - he’s uncomfortably light like he’s half-full of helium, his legs are solid metal. He feels like a harlequin, or a patchwork, all cobbled together haphazardly from mismatched pieces and materials. He’s been put together all wrong. It’s all the effort in the world to pull himself out of bed and down the stairs.
Warnings: Eating Disorder