i keep digging

and digging

the hole in my head isnt even a hole, not really 

just a soft spot that feels wrong when my soft fingers brush over it

but i dig anyway

my nails hook into dried skin - scrape, tear, guide it through strands of hair just as dry 

blood spurts out quick and embarrassed

like it knows it shouldnt be there

im disgusted

im disgusting

the blood always dries too soon

and my fingers never wait — they claw back in, automatic, like some broken machine programmed to “repeat”

i dont even think about it anymore

i just dig, peel, dig again

my heart sinks like im aware yet my fingers flick all the same

dig again

soon my fingernails go, one by one, bending back

showing little pink n red crescents in them

head burning always the brightest after every successful bit of skin turned inside out 

completely off my head

doesnt matter. i keep going. 

thats the worst part- im not even sure what im looking for

maybe the bottom, maybe nothing

maybe just a quiet space inside the hole where everything finally stops

maybe this time the pain from the water hitting my head will be too unbearable even for a grotesque monster like me

maybe soon the flakes i collect inside a little plastic bag wont hold

maybe then i will realise

but by then it will be too late

head is an orange she cant stop peeling