February 22, 2012
Every time I think about you,
It’s like a scab being ripped from my flesh.
A wound trying to heal,
But the skin is tender and fresh.
Each time I do it, I know that it’s wrong.
I know it will hurt me,
But it’s taking too long.
The scab itches and burns, it’s uncomforting.
I pick and dig, I bleed and I sting.
Each time I do it, I know it will bleed,
But this routine I’ve made,
Is something I need.
As I do it less often, the bleeding is less.
The wound underneath,
Isn’t as much of a mess.
I wait and I wait for the healing to subside.
But this process is long…
It’s so painful inside.
-A
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