Jan 12, 2022
Coping
The cool tingling feeling left behind as my nails take into my back. All the force I have goes into it, as if my skin will split open with the pressure, as if wings themselves will erupt from the flesh. I make pictures with red rivets in my thighs, doodles on my bicep. My jagged, chipped nails bring the blood to the surface of my pulsing skin as I doodle. Until the feeling returns. And I’m back at my back. Crawling and clawing. Never quite enough.
-Z.B.