Weapons of Habit

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I have the habit

of chewing my fingernails to blood.

The sharp pain rip

keratin proteins from soft skin,

throbbing. And when I go to light a cigarette,

I fumble with the switch. Discomfort

from stubby nail thumb.

Pull the safety out –

a pot smoker’s trick.

I don’t smoke pot;

I doubt if I even smoke cigarettes.

I do it to give my words confidence

in any medium to large social setting.

I do it so I don’t have to stress

on where to put my hands –

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people make me uncomfortable;

I make myself awkward.

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