I have a savvy relationship with pain.
Particularly the kind that my nerves play out;
a cruel fiction science is still trying to workout.
Luckily, it's not harmful, it just hurts.
It would be fair to say that I don't like pain.
Being a daily greeter at my bedside table,
the moment I consider opening my eyes.
I would be contradictory, yet fair all the same,
to say that I like pain.
Not the random pain I was born with,
but controlled pain.
That once consisted of self-inflicted
lines of distraction.
Or any distraction that calmed the storm.
Lately my therapist advised squeezing ice cubes,
it surprisingly... works well.
My relationship with pain is involuntary,
self-inflicted or otherwise.
Curse or coping,
It is something I cannot escape.
I have day dreams of what 'normal' must feel like,
yet also wonder if any of us are not in pain.
I wish I wasn't alone in my relationship with pain.
Pain is a feeling, it does not negotiate.
It has driven me to madness.
It has made me want to clime stairs while I still can.
It motivates me and rips me to shreds,
simultaneously.
So when deeper pains come into play,
like the depression that grows within me.
Survival becomes a challenge,
because my mind can only shift around pain so much.
Eventually I will fall.
Literally, figuratively, or both.
You have to be there to catch me,
but I don't know if you're ready.