u/Live_Juggernaut5387

Mother tells me not to pick at my skin

Shedding my youth as I

Pick

Unravelling the seams woven within

Exposing the nail to the cross

Mother tells me to try hard

Riddle my palms with callouses

Gnawing through my naivety

But never should I

Pick

Mother tells me to be clean

Smooth flesh cladding a pure soul

No protrusions disrupting the mannequin

So I

Pick

Tearing my body so I can be

Whole

Melting my innocence

So I can set it in the mold

Pick

Feedback:

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1tirkv2/in_the_language_of_decay/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1tisal1/i_dream_of_lace_and_ribbons/