Arms
I stand with my reddening cheeks and chewed nails
I become so aware of my arms I don’t know where to put them.
They swings
Then cross
They hang, waiting for orders.
How does everyone else manage to find something to do with them?
No one but me is constantly flitting between twirling their hair and picking their lips.
(2013)
i know it doesn't flow or feel finished and is pretty much crap, i needed to write something
