I bite my lips and
Pick the skin around my nails
Peeling back the layers
Trying to uncover the reasons I’m here
To retrace my steps
To give this feeling a name
To put my racing mind to rest
But shedding the dead skin
Does nothing more than
Crack my lips and
Scab my fingers
Which hurt for days much longer than
If I had let the dead skin fall off
Naturally
Eventually
I wonder if my mind would do the same
By Caitlin Thomas
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