Picking at a scab

Picking at a scab does no good.

Guess what? It just results in blood.

Blood – the ties that bind they say.

Perhaps that is for another day.

I have no blood.

That’s why it matters.

You act as you do and it just splatters.

Leave it alone.

Let it be.

I pick again mercilessly.

I have no blood.

There is no me.

I’m looking for an identity.

6 thoughts on “Picking at a scab

  1. This really touched me. A great analogy. I sometimes feel I have something I can’t stop thinking about. I hope you find your identity and the ‘scab’ heals. x

  2. I like this but if I may say so, felt it could do with another verse? Perhaps it is just me, but I’m left wanting to know why no identity, no blood, I found myself wanting to help too! I’m not sure I understood the metaphor and am left sat here trying to work it all out… sigh: ‘scabs help wounds heal’ etc etc etc!! Pls fill me in if you get the chance to comment, meanwhile, I think I may need an early night!

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