The bump on my skin
Like a bomb
I feel I must make sure
Doesn't explode
Even though in reality
I know it won't

I peel it off
But that sets it off
What have I done?
Now there's blood

Why does it feel rewarding
To see the bright red liquid
Pour down my hand?

The pain is a cue
To feel mad
At myself
For I have caused it

There's just one more spot
I need to peel
I swear this is the last one
But it never is

I just pinch
And peel
And pick
Until my physical pain
Can outweigh my mental one

I'm sorry that it worries you
Or makes you feel awkward
But I can't
"Just stop"