fixed ovenbird My brain wants to “fix” my ragged cuticles, the sharp edges of my nails, so it creates a compulsion I can’t ignore and I tear myself apart every single day. Does your brain do the same when you look at me? Are you tortured by all the ways I’m broken? All my “fixing” leaves me with fingers that drip blood into the twisted hem of my shirt. All this fixing prevents wounds from closing. I don’t want to be fixed anymore. I want to sleep long enough to heal. 261006 what's it to you? who go blather from