Chapped hands,

nails in lumpy blue

because she couldn’t

sit still long enough to let them dry.

She swiped the brush

over the smears

to make a stack of scars.

She likes science,

skin and bones,

peering through microscopes

until her eyes water.

Humming, tapping,

all to make white noise

against the twenty-seven thoughts

boiling in her brain,

scribbling pages of shapes

to clear enough space

for paying attention.