Once a day, I remove a staple from my skin.
I never understand how this happens,
But a staple always winds up deep in my arms.
It feels like they are holding me together
Each time I try to rip out another.
Many people have asked if it hurts,
But I do not feel pain anymore with how often I do this.
While it would be best to have a staple remover handy
I have to use my bare hands and paper clips.
I make the paper clip into a makeshift hook.
I pull as hard as possible until the staple comes out.
The funny part is that it hurts my fingers
More than it hurts my muscular hairless arms.
For whatever reason, I am always in bed when
I discover another staple embedded in my arm.
The walls are white with a white sheet blocking my view.
I never remember having the same roommate twice either.
I hate being in the doctors office. I believe I had staples once, but what really inspired this poem is the staple remover in front of me.
I hope you enjoy!