scabs

red     hot    spots
     filled   with     liquid
waves    of      heat  
rippling            outward
               on
stretched         skin
        taught 
with            pain 
 picking
        pulling 
               scratching    
          till there’s 
red   under    fingernails 
     blood     on      hands 
itching      to      be   
  cleaned          after
touching    raw     flesh
fingers     still    resisting 
    an    urge   for   more
More pain
              More heat 
                          More stimulation 
  tender    healing 
                disrupted         by 
     curious    destructive     hands 
searching           for 
    a    place     to      land
a      sore       safety           net 
     the    reassuring      pain 
          found    in   
     a    nest    of   hair
reaching    for     the    rooted
                 follicle
       and      plucking     out   

    a     single      strand

    woven       with 
shame       and      regret
           and        a
 satisfying        sting