I am pages
Marked with ink from a pen
And ink from a printer.
I am words formed
To make profound statements
And snarky comments.

I am scribbled chicken scratch,
Etched onto skin.
I am the google-font
"Rock Salt,"
That I use for all my male characters,
Though it more closely resembles
My own handwriting.

I am the itching of a wound
As it grows closed.
I am the burning of the skin around the cut flesh
The only reminder of things you don't remember.

I am scarred hands,
From painful overwhelming black outs,
And Underwhelming solutions.
I am itching chapped skin
From hot water and soap.

I am the phrases
"You're doing too much,"
And
"You're not doing enough."

I am the cold locking my hands into place,
I am anxiety locking my throat into place.
I am I am I am I am

And then there's you.