2009-04-19
pain
I want to feel the sting, the bitter burn that’s rough, acrid, mine. The pain means existence and importance, it means that it could have been pleasure, that there was the razor-edge potentiality and grandness, and it went the other way; the discomfort means being alive.
I want to get hurt because then it means that my heart was open enough to let it happen, means that someone tried and I tried and that there was some inter-action and that is living.
But instead of all this, I’ve got no nicks and scratches, no marks of something, anything. Instead of all this, I am painfully painless.
leesah-likes at 5:29 p.m.