'Veins' by Ravyn LaRue

My veins in my wrists are poking through my skin
It's really gross
I hate veins
At least when they show like this
It's like the line in 'Esperanza Rising'
Where she complains of her worker's hands
But this was brought on by sorry
I'm sure of it
I'd like to get fatter, only for the sake to cover up these gross blue tributaries
I thought of tattoos, but I'd only find it grosser
I could wear many bracelets
But they might rupture the wounds
I hate this
I hate this
They can't see that I'm falling apart
But if they knew the former me
They would see what this place does to me
I'm disintegrating, for God's sake.
Mama says my voice has changed
And that scares me more than anything-
My voice means the world to me, as odd as that might be.
I'd rather have gross veins and a good voice.
I'd wear opera gloves when I sang it.
But I'm falling apart in multiple ways
Which I surely cannot control
And I need to write
Resting these gross wrists on the warm laptop.
I constantly feel like a zombie here.
Empty, in a way.
I'd rather be a wendigo-
At least they feel something and have agency.
But I have no choice.
And my veins protrude, though I wish they didn't.