sjsprWriting

"She kept picking at it. First her index finger to gain entry. Followed by all of them. Digging deeper and deeper despite the increasing pain. Logically she knew she should stop. It kept" her from breaking down, it kept her in a trance, picking away at the imperfections that riddled her body and made her feel like she's drowning, not able to see the surface; wanting to be perfect, in her mind she would tell herself to stop, tell herself that the marks and nicks on her skin would never heal if she keeps opening them once again. It's like her mind and her body are no longer friends, once close now grown apart, tearing at the seams.

In her mind she screams and she pleads, but her body, her arms, hands and fingers battle on to cleanse what they see impure, a detox to the troubled, anxious mind whom longs to be cured. Every nick and scratch and "cleansing" release leaves her feeling like she's one step closer to complete, ignoring the vicious cycle she creates as she pulls and scratches and picks at her own scarring constellations. She lets the hours go by like seconds, irate and rude as the ones who already see the galaxies in her eyes try to help her see them too. She locks the door and hides away, not even looking up to see that the sky that was once pristine is now swollen and as she bleeds, she feels the relief of a job well done, hours of scratching and bright lights as the tweezers, like missiles, break through her atmosphere, poking and prodding at every single star.

Dizzy as she sees, sun shining through the window, the face that she has marred. Neck stiff from sitting still, back curved and legs weak, she sees her masterpiece at its peak; regretting once again the angry shouts to her mother and ignoring all her friends. She sits silently, as the instrument of destruction falls from her hand, as she winces while the tears fall down on her face, stinging and washing away last night's mistakes. Yet somehow she looks on, to that broken-down and shattered girl and feels like she's shooting off into space, looking back at the world.