Disclaimer: Anything that looks familiar isn't mine.
Owen sticks out his tongue and tastes the air. It's a strange thing to do, but it reminds him he's still here.
The docks have becoming his favourite place. He's alone. And the air is salty. He likes that.
He's stopped trying to drown himself. Not worth the effort anymore. It's just another reminder of what completely human and normal thing he can no longer do.
His skin feels like a casing. He wonders what it would be like to rip it off and watch his blood – dazzling, crimson, and alive.
Cardiff is muted and he feels very far away.