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