Don’t Pick It!

There’s a scab formed over the healing,

Crusted, dark red with an itch.

There’s a tendency to pick at the edges

Which makes it a bit of a bitch

To recover from injuries, the wounded

Temper their healing with pain,

Returning to hurts once inflicted,

Reliving the moments again.

There’s a process that bodies afflicted

Must go through, that’s just how it goes,

Time and salve make the difference

Though time definite nobody knows.

Some fester from constant exposure,

Scab picked for the whole world to see,

Supurating, rancid, unhealing,

A neglect of the way it should be.

Treat it with unguents specific

To purpose, then leave well alone

Healing is slowed by the scratching

And picking right down to the bone.

17 thoughts on “Don’t Pick It!”

  1. Never done such a thing! Well, maybe a little scratch for the itchy bits…or just to scrape that bit that’s hanging loose…or sometimes I think it’s now fine so I help it a bit….or when I know it’s time, I’ll take it off…sometimes it will bleed a bit, but that’s ok…sometimes it bleeds a lot….but that’s ok too…a new scab to hack and scratch and bloodyness to give me something more, that I think I know better than my body does, to play with.
    But no, they don’t bother me at all! 🙂

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  2. this describes my summer… beautiful and apt for me. I was attacked by a very hungry hoard of mosquitoes last weekend and am covered with scabs and I cannot leave them alone. Great poem on two levels for me. Have missed you!

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    1. I’m afraid my blogging days are taking a backseat at the moment to everything else that is going on. It’s been a busy couple of months and more to follow but I’m hoping to get back to more regular reading and blogging before too long. Thanks for reading and commenting, DAF. 🙂

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