Dermatillomania

They say that beauty is skin deep,
I have tried to scratch and pick my way there,
But so far have been unsuccessful.

I keep wondering why I never get better,
As I pick away at the parts of me that are trying to heal,
One scab at a time.

When I encounter any mild inconvenience,
I take it as a cue to kill my cuticle,
Until my fingertips remind me it is painful to hold on.

I have sometimes left claw marks on my skin,
That are perhaps me trying to contact my soul from the outside,
Using anxiety and fingernails as a makeshift hammer and chisel.

When the hands can't take anymore I'll move on,
Base of the feet slowly heals in high heels,
Sceptic hands, sceptic feet, sceptic life.

But if there is one thing I've learned from this,
It's that you can pick yourself apart as much as you like,
And you will still continue to heal.

This gives me hope.