I'd only cut my nails if someone were
To hold my hand. Nails. Claws.
I have no fur
But what I do have is the hands
Of an animal. Surely you understand
The need to pick at them? Where
Else would the energy go— skin, hair,
Knife? No matter the length
It takes the same amount of strength
To keep myself from tearing
Them apart, preparing
To get scolded later. Sharp.
Jagged. My LA
Blood is providing me no words today.
I hit the enter key
And watch as gradually
More paint comes off
But it'll never stop.
They might already
Be short but when there's a will,
There's a way;
There's no point in say
ing I'll stop because
There's no one to stop for.
No one uses the
Nail cutter anymore.