While scratching a particularly annoying scab on my arm I started pondering about the usefulness of this part-time skin appendage. It may look gross, but it covers a wound, away from the glare of judging eyes and squeamishness.
My nails picks at it, poke it, circle it like a vulture to a carcass. The encrustation comes undone, accompanied by a sting and wince and a need to peel it away and expose the inglorious wound to the cruelty of reality.
Once exposed the raw red sore smiles at the pain, amid is bubbling suppurating relish. Through this anatomical sadism I learn to also smile and accept the wound is now my scar and imperfect friend, as it is a part of me and must add to my imperfections.
The moral of it all - scabs must be as humans are, annoying, painful and necessary.
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ReplyDeleteI like the comparison.
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