Monday, August 17, 2015

What it's like when i try to just sit and do nothing.

It's an itch under my skin that gets worse with each scratch. I fiddle, I twiddle my thumbs. I scratch my palms, alternating hands every couple minutes. My feet never stop reaching for my knees, toes wiggling and grinding together. The dirt under my nails is a constant distraction, almost as much as the tiny cracks along their tips, which lead to my repeatedly tracing the uneven edges with my other finger nails. A hangnail is the bane of my existence sometimes.  The pores on my face itch and cry out to be touched, then weep puss and blood when I do, leaving scabs and scars and shame behind.  I keep looking at my phone and deciding not to bother anybody.  "Why aren't they calling me?", I ask.  Is that a pain in my side and isn't that where the liver is? 

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