Fascination
Wash. Scour. Rinse. My hands are tomato red. The texture is of raw meat.
More soap. Scrub. Scrub. Scrub. The water is cherry tinted. My fingernails are bleached.
I can see them. They’re crawling, diving, and dining on my skin. Their little parasite bodies are digging under my flesh, like worms burrowing, and chew on the tissue that I’m scraping away.
Wash. Scour. Rinse. Scrub. Scrub. Scrub. More blood. A disease.
Scrub. Scrub. Scrub.
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