Layer after layer

My teeth scrape against hardened skin.

Peeling away anxiety… 

I hide my fingers in public.

They are ragged… disgraceful.

Not just the nails themselves:

The flesh surrounding them.

Laced with blood.

Still just as chopped by teeth;

Just as ragged. 

I sit by myself…

All day. 

Every day.

Afraid. 

My fingers show my shame.