Self portrait as a snake

These scales just don’t come off like they used to.

I pick and I pick and I pick and

they peel off one at a time, painfully,

taking chunks of reddened flesh with them.

Oh to be a snake that emerges, gracefully, in one piece

instead of emerging with jeweled scars and painted bruises

These scales are stuck,

I held on too long and

they won’t budge until the tissue underneath is bulging and sore —

asphyxiated with unfortunate habits

They itch.