Musings and Poetry

My collection of poems, stories, and fitful spurts of creative energy.

November 29, 2004

Pain

Pain is so close to pleasure.

Bull shit.

Pain, is pain.
It hurts.
Burns.
Scrapes.
Screams.

Your skin is flayed.
Your blood spilled and burning.
Twisting in your belly.
Nerves splitting in two.

Usually you think about the
Explosion bringing release.
What if it didn't

What if you were curled up in a bed,
Two, three times a day for six years.
What if every step up and down stairs,
Was a jab of pain.
Your back full of knives when you bend over.

Pain sucks.
Pain is horrible.

There is no desire in pain.
Only a cry for relief.
The desire for 'not pain.'

Pain doesn't make you appreciate living.
It just hurts.

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