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Anxious Girl
March 9, 2021
There are callouses
on the tips of my every finger.
Sometimes,
hands aren’t calloused from burdens of rough work.
Sometimes,
hands callous from the burdens of the heart.
© MacMillan
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Even as a child in primary school, my nails were always bitten down to its beds and until they bled. It seemed so unnatural that a child’s hands could be so rough and calloused, and I was often asked what work I was doing at my age. The answer was simply: I wasn’t. My hands had always just been
a product of anxiety; the preoccupation to distract from the next inevitable schoolyard-bully.