i can't stop it.
an addiction. i'm an addict.
no self discipline, no control
my hands, my fingers keep returning
and returning on
my chapped lips
it began last week. cold day,
caught a cold. breathing through my mouth.
sick and dry
dry lips.
there's an itch on my finger, i began to touch
my chapped lips
i thought it was a one time thing,
something reversible, something stoppable.
i was wrong, i was dumb, i was so wrong.
when my fingers stopped retaliating the blood,
it, the addiction, turned my teeth onto warriors
on the scrimmage on
my chapped lips
one night, i stopped
in the morning it was worse.
a wound hasn't healed, and another
on top of it. skin and flesh, on a rotating schedule
i'm scared but i don't stop. i'm scared
but my body just turned its back on
my chapped lips.
nothing has changed. blood and wound
scar and then wound,
i haven't stopped. and now i'm not scared.
i thought, i'm good at healing.
so, my chapped lips
will stay. scars may come,
but it's just my lips.
nothing good
has ever touched
my chapped lips.
a quick one. i hope you get the metaphor and the message i am trying to send (wink). // if you ever want to talk - hit me up! It'll be great to talk to someone from here. Thanks!