Hangnails

Hangnails

A Poem by Lydia

I poke and prod
until the skin
becomes loose
until there is enough
to grab by my teeth
and I pull
I tear the piece
as far as it will go
down my thumb
imagining
if I could tear it
all the way
across my arm
until the scars
I feel are shown
to anyone who
looks at me
Maybe they will
have pity
but more likely
they will look
away in disgust

© 2019 Lydia


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JR
Everyone has those scars underneath, but it's amazing how we react with horror when we see those of another. You did a really powerful job capturing this image, baring the self through the tearing of skin. I love the form as well... the column makes the poem read faster, the eye jump more, which helps build the mood of the conclusion. Well constructed.

Posted 5 Years Ago



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1 Review
Added on November 15, 2019
Last Updated on November 15, 2019

Author

Lydia
Lydia

Seattle, WA



About
I'm Lydia. I write free verse. Nature is freedom. My Bird, I am forever changed. Rest in Peace, my beautiful friend. Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginativ.. more..

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