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an-atlas-or-other · 4 months

Text

Papercuts

I haven’t tasted my own blood in a while

Its making my stomach feel sick

Stains on fingers and I’ve forgotten what I’d do to make it itch

I feel it when I move my hands

I feel it as I type this out

I feel it in my heart a bit

Its been a while, since I’ve gone without

Hurting myself or feeling the pain

That comes with wounds on skin

It tastes different from what I draw when I bite my nails or what’s within

An instinct tells me to pick at it, the scab is still just forming

But I’ll cover it like it’s brothers and sisters, and unlike them, I’ll leave it

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