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!