Twitches

The youth I was gifted was tainted, I grew with slim fingers, I cracked them at the joints. I bit at my palms, my fingertips, anything and everything I could latch onto. I have urges to randomly scream, a problem with causing pain to those around me, whether it is deserved or not, a small place of psychotic in my left shoulder that always wanted to be rolled through, a love for books, writing and reading. A need for a new life, a new home, a portion of encouraged existence for myself.