I like to pick off my scabs – By @GCopywrite

By Gigi Rice

I like to pick off my scabs

I like to pick off my scabs. This is my first time, but also not. There is a right timing to everything though, too early and it’s a bloody mess.Not sure which this is. It’s good that I’ve picked off a scab alreadyCause my scholarship master plan has been foiledIf Richard from the Durham Conservative office ever gets to heaven He owes me 16.5 grand I like to peel off my scabs slowlyMostly because I’m putting off the scholarship competitionSelf indulgence is quite poetic Like making sure you feel the sting from every millimeter of parting scab skin My favourite kind of scabs have hair underneathIt’s like a weird sort of Christmas joy Alas! This one is curly and super long! It’s amazing the things you don’t expect from touching your scabsWhere do scabs go? Its rather like socks in a washing machine Only a champion few will emerge The rest to remain in the vast metallic silver universe The best scabs are the ones you pick from your faceFoundation is awfully bumpy otherwise There’s nothing like the relief of smooth skin Make sure you’ve squeezed all the gunk out the pores first Every scab that comes from you is unique Similar in colour, similar in raised format However, a wise at times man once told me thisCorrelation does not imply identical causation I like what comes after a scabFresh new, puckered up buttercup skin If you’re lucky, a scarSomething to gossip in the pub about And every scar is a conversation starter “It was a shark in Tahiti”So every scab is a prerequisite to avoiding loneliness Every wound, a chance to connect Sometimes scabs are misunderstood Pull it off, get it out there, and find it still bleedsStains your clothes with red velvet pinpricksOr sometimes volcano headsIs the eruption over once a scab forms? No. The white mess of infection can lingerBut, if we never did anything to our scabs but “at the right time” they’d all be dry and inconsequential I feel an affinity to bad scabs Aren’t we all imperfect? Don’t we all want someone to read usEven if, just as a reminder that we are all unfinished There is a beauty to being pockmarked To the places where acne festeredTo leaving behind moon-like craters and bowlsWhen the crusty exterior waves “goodbye my friend” I once got a scab popped in hospital It was full of fluid from a burnThe nurses reminded me of kind primary school teachersI wouldn’t have had as good of a scab without their helpThis is my scab but also not my firstAren’t we all used to shedding skins To being this Gigi and that Gigi I have had many scabs that came from rebirthing myself over and overWhere does one put a scab?Should I just neatly place it in the bin? Oh wait, thats where my scholarship video has gone Scabs are just external bogeys, Flick it into space and hope for the best