I tear the skin off of my lips
And then I can taste the salty blood.
My mother says to me,
"Annie! Stop!"
But I ignore her.
And I chew away.
She asks me,
"Annie!! Why do you do that!?
It freaks me out!!"

Maybe I think that my lips will disintegrate.
That maybe I will just
End up eating them away.

No.
That's too strange.

Maybe I think that they need to be smoother,
Just in case,
And that any jagged bits of skin poking up needs to be ripped off
Like a bandaid.

No.
I'm too shy to kiss anyone.

Maybe I just love the sting
Of exposed skin.

I don't think so.
I'm pretty sure I've become desensitized to that
sting.

My answer, Mom, is that I don't know.

I couldn't tell you even if I tried.