too good....

it’s true. it’s all very beautiful. n’ it’s too good. n’ now i know where lies the difference. it’s me. not them. n’ it feels so weird after wakin’ up from a lifetime of slumber. the pupils are still learning to contract. light is my cortez. n’ i’m made to see everythin’ that i didn’t want to see. n’ they were right. i wasn't. they were good. i wasn’t.

but i’ve got somethin’ for me. i don’t remember how did it start. probably i started doin’ it without knowin’ what i was doin’. probably two months back when one day i peeled off the skin from my right nipple. the feelin’ was exclusive n’ it bled. not really. the blood was still flowin’ like it was but without a cover. n’ then i got a wound. a bruise. every night before bedtime i used to scratch it to tear it open. still didn’t know what i was doin’. why i was doin’. but i just couldn’t resist the temptation whenever i saw my right nipple.

i couldn’t take off my shirt no more if there was someone around. i got embarrassed. it looked horrible. awful. my nails failed to satisfy me no more. it was a bit too superficial. i wanted to go deeper. n’ so i tried. old used shavin’ blades. n’ i got what i wanted. nothin’ was more pleasant than the sight of my old dry peeled off skin fallin’ down at my feet. the flight was elusive. perhaps cuttin’ the skin right from the tip of my right nipple was even better. n’ just for a while. maybe just for the night. my right nipple looks brand new with all the fresh cells unveiled. it was as good as anyone’s.

but i still wondered. was it just a habit? an addiction? that’s it? no. it’s my identification. yes it is. now it helps me to identify myself. it gives me a place. it gives me a ground where i can see myself standin’. n’ it amazes me to a great extent when i see my right nipple makin’ such a huge contribution for my establishment n’ my left nipple just doin’ absolutely nothin’ to help the cause. so not fair.

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