nails //
i want you to tear off my nails
one by one
i want to see the soft and wrinkled skin
underneath the clear nail beds
i think there will be blood
i hope there will be blood
we have worked too hard for there not to be
after all
you scraped off my pinkie nail
with such gentleness
with a chisel and a nail file
with a look of nervousness
i told you
don’t be afraid
it’ll make you shake and
you won’t be able to finish the rest
i need you to finish the rest
down to the last toenail
i don’t want to feel protected anymore
you know what i mean
when i say i don’t want to be like this
you gulp and you nod your head
that’s a good boy
go to the ring fingers
they will mean nothing to me when they are strong
you tore these ones out
they hurt but i didn’t mind
now they are open and vulnerable
middle fingers you peel like a wrapper off a candy bar
you’ve been throwing the nails on the ground
each of them littered with skin
each one of my cells separates
when i decide to flinch at the pointer fingers
they come off in pieces
and you have to dig into the soft flesh
to unearth the mangled leftovers
and it feels deafening
my eyes get watery and blurred
you ask if i am okay or if we should stop
i tell you
keep going
it will hurt me but i don’t care
the thumbs pop off easily
and i look at my hands
they are rotten looking and grey
tell me you are okay with that
you ask about my toes
i tell you to take them all off
and you do
the big toe makes me cry out
the thickness of the nail making it latch
on the hanging skin
i look at it hang
detached from my toe yet still hanging on
is that what it feels like to
have your love slip away
you cut it off with scissors
and that’s how you remove the rest
shove the blades underneath
and pull up harshly
until every spot is empty
i feel sick
i look like a corpse
i am rotting underneath my nails
with tears in my eyes
i ask you again
if you are okay holding my hand like this
now that you know what’s there
decay and bone
i wait for you to answer
i feel afraid for the first time
you will not love me now
but while my blackened fingertips shake
i watch your perfect hands
gingerly touch my mangled ones
you tell me that it doesn’t matter
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