i love love love

I don't carve letters
I rip the skin,
peel
again and again
until I bleed.

Sticky red water drops form
mini scabs
self-inflicted little wounds
each finger
only fingers

more and more.

Skin heals quickly
noticeable growth in nail bed,
but again and again
I tear
pull yank back
my own flesh and
side of nails
more than ever yet
on the rare occasion when they are painted
I leave them alone.

Dry skin calls out
little flaps easy to grab
harder to stop
refrain
mame.

It can be excitement under the table
at a restaurant as a friend is sharing stories
emotions and I return tales
time time time to be energetic or to be the way I
am supposed to be or am.

At least three fingers on each hand are
blackboards of naked words you can't see
the sentence says
I am on edge
I like to hurt
the first peel feels gooood
exhilarating
necessary
little to no damage done
Then a bit more
then who the fuck cares

I do.

Lotion and soften
filing the nails and resting
keep palms on lap
meditate

November 27, 2018
I have not pulled
disturbed these sacred spaces
since October before Halloween
sometimes my fingers approach the areas
as if to yank or claw or hold
the wounded territory
former spots where dangled skin
blood anxiety

Pray

the mere touch and time passing
tell me my skin is honored
the battles and triumphs
i am here and will not hurt myself


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