I painted my heart on my sleeve

Have you ever thought of the term “wearing your heart on your sleeve” literally? Have you ever thought how your heart would look?
Rolling up your left sleeve you see the red soreness from the scratching – the distraction that kept you from screaming half an hour ago. If you gently run your nails across your right arm you can feel a gentle brushing feeling, it almost tickles. But if you touch the redness of your left arm in the same way, you can barely feel a thing. The place where you wore your heart so hazardously is now numb. You can no longer feel the nails running across your arm, the tools you used to claw at your skin. Numbness. The area is unattractive and blotchy. You don’t want anyone to look at it, so no one does. If someone wants to know why it looks like that you get defensive.
It’s going to take a long time for those marks to fade, and even longer to feel someone’s touch on your skin.