Even children learn to take their hand off a hot stove when they burn their hands. Me, I just keep setting my hand on fire again and again, hoping against hope that this time, my hand won't blister and crack and peel. It takes some degree of courage, or is that stupidity, to be right back there again and set yourself aflame. And I have no one to complain to when my hand hurts. I can't even cry about it any more. I just stare at the worthless husk that has become my hand and try and remember when I could write and draw and create and that all seemed to mean something.

Photo - S
Words - S