Until recently,*
most of my memories readily available
remind me of ghost needles,
ice picks
& phantom Taipan bites
jabbed wildly
into a heart that beats nails
through my veins.

There are only five people on this planet
I give a **** about.

Everyone else
are just scars
whose dull stabs of pain
remind me why I don't take life seriously.

You words remind me
of that pain I used to endure,
the blood eyed, vicious demons
with barbed-wire kisses
and razor blades to my throat
while their katana fingernails
clawed out my liver and kidneys
riding me like a sybian
whispering comforting Trinidad Moruga Scorpion lullabies.

And I thank you
for reminding me
we have to go through hell
to find the bliss we love.