shovel

another day writing

and i still feel like this

my unease is palpable

as seen when i rip my nails

in an attempt to feel normal

i am anxious about being anxious

a harsh paradox

haunting my brain day and night

it feels as if rats are nibbling away at my stomach

i smell the thick scent of saliva after i bite my nails ragged

which calms me and unnerves me

like being buried alive

because my nails aren’t enough, I dig into the skin

nuzzling hang nails, trying to bring my feelings out of me

i feel guilty and scared

because i know

my nails will bleed eventually

if i continue

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