The Here and Now

Self injury.

I can go weeks without a bruise.
Or cut.
Or near fatal injury.

And then I go weeks with nothing but.
This week alone I have:
-Acquired a large purplish and black bruise on my right thigh from a chance meeting between my thigh and the corner of a stray desk.
-Sliced my index finger open while cutting toasted tortillas.
-Burned a pretty little design on my arm with an oven rack during my only real cooking attempt of this semester.
-Stabbed my palm while absently playing tossing games with a pen knife.
-Received a series of paper cuts from a stack of origami sheets.
-And, of course, sliced my knee (not to mention my favorite jeans) on a particularly slippery and sharp patch of ice.

Oh, I forgot to mention the two raw hangnails and the scab on my calf that I had scratched off causing more bleeding than a person should have from a two-week old bug bite.

Then there is the matter of my eye. It’s swollen and gross looking. That, however, is a vastly different story.

Bring on the fun.
Bring on the pain.