Filling Canvas

Small scratches on my skin
Red and filled with blood ready to ooze out with a tiny pick
There’s something so wrong with picking at it
But it just feels so right
It’s addictive
You want to stop but you can’t pull yourself from the bad habits
Not until blood stops hardening over
And there’s just a light red spot
Soon covered with a darker part of skin
Nothing to bother when you’re bored in class
Just another part of your marvelous body
Adding another drawing to the canvas


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