P for Pain
P
is for pain,
is
also for pleasure.
That
drop of blood
Which
is supposed to torment me
Actually
excites me
excruciatingly
enough
P
is actually for perspective
What
pain is for a masochist.
Pain
is the paint
I
brush my body (heart) with
So
that I don’t have to
Process
my pertinent emotions.
Pain
is the feeling I embrace
The
bruise which I keep on picking
A
gift which keeps on giving.
The
obvious physical pain of
Broken
bones
The
odious psychological pain of
Broken
homes
I
embrace it after all
only because
I don’t know how to exist
as a person
Without pain
at all.
