So I took my lip piercing out. As quick as the decision was to force metal through flesh came the decision to remove the splinter, staple, nail, the what is that doing there asked by anyone under seven who hasn't learned about lying and rudeness; the people over seven who like to cause me furrowed brows and intensions of flipping off.

Feels nice to have it out. My body is a slow healer when it comes to injuries, but boy as soon as that guy was out that lip skin sewed itself shut. I knew it never wanted it to be there. I just wanted to be in charge for a while. But maybe it's better to let it call the shots. Flesh is always synonym to corruption, but it also contains entities some refer to as the soul, the heart, the conscience, which I think merit more validity than routine and habit.