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I pick at the skin on my thumb,

pulling bits of flesh off and revealing more underneath.

Like pulling a thread that’s unraveled from a sweater.

The more I pull, the more that comes.

Except I don’t have any scissors to cut the thread.

and my hands are too weak to detach it.

So instead I just keep tugging, watching the sweater come apart in my hands;

skin peeling back to reveal muscle and bone.

Almost impressive, how much damage is done from just one thread.

Recommend0 Simily SnapsPublished in All Stories, Non-Fiction, Personal Narrative, Poetry