Welcome to the wanderer's Library. I have a sneaking feeling you'll fit right in. Anyhow, here's the nitpicks.
All my organs, my bones, my eyes, my brain, my skin, my, I don't know, my lymph nodes?
Surprisingly, I would rather a ellipsis or em dash here, as in "my skin, my… I don't know, my lymph nodes?" or "my skin, my — I don't know, my lymph nodes? Also I sorta wish there was… okay I never say this im sorry… I wish there was more body horror than there already is. Sigh. Again, hating myself for advising this, but it could use some more 'ew, trash-compacted person'.
I actually drowned once, when I was younger.
Should probably specify 'almost', because the actual act of drowning is, I believe, fatal.
coughing and gagging and breathing and feeling again
The voice in this piece is very strong. I enjoy it. However, I think here some more evocative language could be used here? I see themes of "unfeeling is worse than feeling", or "death is better than life/pain" or something, so lean into that with some imagery inducing drugs. Drugs? I meant words. Same thing.
The feeling of leaving behind my useless body, that never worked right, that never looked how I wanted it to, and moving beyond.
Comma after 'body' is not needed.
Now, with six identical faces, instead of one I never recognized.
Nice work here! Banger line.
The pressure of fitting into myself instead of trying to fit everywhere else.
This line is sorta dangling without any context, and I'm not really sure what you're trying to get across with it.
I had seen it when I first came into the little cottage.
"the" can only really be used if there is prior mention of the subject: here, the cottage. Writers do this sometimes, as if to establish that their story has a beginning part that has been obscured from the reader. But here, I don't really like it… I'll get to that in the general.
I'm not a botanist or anything but I thought I had seen this kind of plant before, though I couldn't recall what it was. Stupid.
The 'stupid' at the end of the line seems… out of place? as if it shouldn't be there. The cube comes off more as understanding the reality of themselves without being self-deprecating. I think that's what you're going for? Earlier you establish that this cube rather likes himself now that they're a cube.
I could still tell somehow that it was a very old thing.
I would urge, especially in a rather esoteric story like this, to not rely on ambiguity. Why could Cube tell it was an odd thing? It's construction? Typically when I look at a box I don't think "huh that's a weird box but idk why"
From inside the box the woman pulled out a tiny, short paintbrush, maybe only three inches long, almost as slender as a piece of straw, and the brush was carved all up and down with symbols and figures and patterns I couldn't even begin to decipher and the detailing of which was bewildering
Perhaps it is an effect of the style of voice you're using, but — holy run-ons batman. They get difficult to parse through in the big block paragraphs. Break them up a little bit, maybe? Idk, if the style is something you wanna preserve then you'll have to really finesse these.
The ink clung to the tiny clutch of bristles like a frightened child to a mother's leg
I can tell you can use imagery to an incredible extent. Don't hold it back on the rest of the piece.
Loved and enjoyed it, a master of her craft
It is singular, the previous sentence said "loved my faces".
t h i s. m u s t. b e. h e l l. i t s e l f.
imo the periods are unnecessary.