Tick

My bad habit

Tick

I pick at my thumb

Till the skin is raw

Sharp nails

Just like a chainsaw

I just can't stop

This nervous tick

No matter what

I have to pick

Throbbing veins

Cuticles broken

I can't stop shaking

I don't even know it

Maybe this poem

Will help me move on

Cause without the hurt

I feel withdrawn

Author's Note

Would love to hear your thoughts!