Carina Stopenski CW: Gore
By Carina Stopenski
I’ve always struggled with biting my nails, so I sought out a new coping mechanism. Now, rather than pulling at my cuticles, I split my finger down its center, peeling back each layer of the dermis like a gory onion. I watch my tendons split free, gnawing at the muscle. When I finally expose the bone beneath the viscera, I notice the hard mineral below.
You know, it’s such a nasty habit, I can almost hear my mother say as I scrape away the gristle, break away each fragment of marrow, let each bit disintegrate and melt on my tongue.
Carina Stopenski (they/them) is a writer, teacher, and librarian based out of Pittsburgh, PA. Carina received their BFA in Creative Writing from Chatham University, their MSLS in Library Science from Clarion University of Pennsylvania, and their MA in Literary and Cultural Studies from Carnegie Mellon University. Their work is forthcoming or has been featured in Fauxmoir, Button Eye Review, Defunkt Magazine, and Cathexis Northwest Press, among others. Carina’s writing centers around the queer experience, body studies, and transhumanist perspectives. You can follow their work at www.carinastopenskiwriter.com.
Why we chose this piece: This piece is so visceral that our shoulders were up around our ears by the time we finished reading—we mean this in the best way possible. Carina took the mundane issue of picking at one’s fingers and transformed it into something delightfully creepy.
