broken skin
...and it starts as a fleeting thought. Just like that. Whipping past my mind like a swooping bird. But then it returns, slower this time, lingering long enough for consideration. T'ill soon, all i'm thinking about is the paper clip on the table beside me. And i need it. I need it. I need the release of me. I reach for the curled wire and decisively open it up. Then i extend my arm and start scraping back and forth, line by line. Pain tingles up my arm, shooting through my numb legs. Thin white lines fade like streaks of dissipating smoke, and so i press harder and harder. And i feel like i'm going to burst if i don't split myself open, so i press a little harder and faster. T'ill finally skin spreads, parting like clouds, exposing a vast red expanse of me. And i recline back into my pillow, drop the paper clip to the floor, my mother's disappointment seeping from skin like warm red tears.