I really really hate how my day/life gets disrupted by my nose.
I don't get why my body has to be like this.
Stupid pudgy fingers, stupid nose, disgusting hopeless vile skin.
The pain, or now the lack of it rather. The aches, the blood.
The last vestiges of obsession that I hide within me, only allowing them to surface when I obsessively claw at the remaining pieces of scab, staining my fingernails bloody. Or when I chip away at the open wound with a nailcutter, sometimes washed.
When I dig deep into my toe to cut out that piece of nail, bleeding all the time, only stopping to stem the flow when it obscures my vision.
That red trail I leave behind me after I tell myself to suck it up after accidentally kicking a sharp corner, not realising how deep the cut was, or that there even was a cut.
Maybe that's us. People like us. You keep telling yourself you're okay and fine, and everyone else sees the river of blood but you.
But you suck it up, because you're better than that, at least until you die.