what to do, what to do.

Mon, 12/24/2018 - 18:15 -- gvonfos

When biting your fingernails begins to hurt,

you can turn to the dead skin on the ends of your fingers

When all that is gone, it is then, and only then,

that you have whittled away enough of your regrowth.

 

 

At the slightest notice of new blossoms, tell yourself,

“I will stop cutting the leaves off the branches in order to feel safe”

Then do it anyways.

After all, it isn’t about feeling safe at all, is it?

 

 

It's about feeling in control.

It's about making sure your hands aren’t ever beautiful enough to hold.

It’s about making sure nothing you touch feels the same as it did back then.

It's about peace of mind.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741