I play Rock Paper Scissors with the skin on my wrist
Best 2 out of 3
And I always win
Leaving behind the remnants of thoughts I compete with on a daily basis
I often feel like there are hands wrapped around my throat, and maybe they are stemming from my own arms.
I try to shove my breath into my stomach so I can digest it and be who I need to be
Who they need me to be.
When will I learn that these games are never fun, and that winning isn’t the only thing when all I win is this never ending pain.