Skin

l never knew what life would be like with no skin. l never had to think about it - pre-explosion - so, it was a non issue. 

Something happened that tore my skin off. Something big. l call it the explosion.
Life without skin is hard. Stuff gets on and then gets in. Before the explosion, these things were insignificant, they got brushed off, shrugged off, washed off. Now, well... many of these formally insignificant irritants, they bombard and they fester.

 The strange look or disapproving glance, the harsh word, the surprise eviction notice. They splinter into my skinless self and burn.