my white nails keep chipping,

paint peeling back leaving nothing 

but my glossless shame. a uniform

of disorder, the jagged tips cower beneath

what’s left before i can bite away any more. 

what’s more, what’s more satisfying, 

what’s more sinful, what’s a little more? 

my white nails keep chipping and god knows 

i’ve tried everything else. stainless 

steel clippers with sharp edges 

leaving my nail beds rigid on a cold metal table.

files like sandpaper on bare skin–tearing

down the only shelter left to keep them safe.

my white nails keep chipping. 

she used to tell me boys should always

trim their nails to the bed, and

i know she wishes they would never

have been stained in the first place. 

i should be holding a pretty girl’s hand,

dainty with polished french tips. daydreams 

of white teeth in white gowns in front of white 

churches where white men can promise me 

bright lights in the afterlife. i paint them away 

anyways on my calloused hands covering up 

the cracks they do not want to understand. 

my white nails keep chipping and the lady 

at the salon tells me it’s a bad habit 

with her polite cuticles–a habit, a tradition, 

a resurrection of insecurity, a reminder 

that people don’t really change. isn’t that why donald 

trump was elected in the first place?

hypocrites hiding behind another white

savior, always forgetting they’re never 

actually the ones who hang on crosses–

just the ones who are saved in the rapture. 

my white nails keep fucking chipping

and there’s no white polish left at cvs,

hell there’s no toilet paper anymore

so why do i even care? ancient prophets 

testified the end of times were near 

but i can’t figure out how it’s any different 

this time around. still the same faces 

painting over the same people promising 

that the same god is coming for them soon.

my white nails keep chipping and i let them–

so i can see the rigid marks beneath. 

so i can feel the crags that go unseen.

so i can taste the blood that lies underneath. and god,

because it feels so good to tear them apart

in between the tips of my two front teeth.

Matthew Buxton