I just burned all the skin of my hand, knuckles upward is fresh raw skin,
like that of a newborn.
I begin to wonder…
if I immerse my whole self in a tub of boiling water,
will it make me new all over?
I need newness;
I have become stale; yet, I have many years left in this tired vessel.
My hand looks pretty though,
soft almost red.
It looks as if it’s never been touched,
I wish I had never been touched.
I wish for innocence and naiveté; it will never come.
I get myself in bad situations but they are entirely my own fault.
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