Biting the lip
the same place
as a
child

Ever since that
fall, she had
always bit
sharply

When she fell
a scar cut
deep, leaving behind
tissue

Never healing it
was always so
raw, ripped and
sore

The blood tasted
of metal coins
cold and sweet
bitter

Now in her
thirties, she chews
on the same
flesh

Despite the surgery
the wound remained
old habits
unbroken

Tonight she bites
down, and tastes
her childhood
pain

Even now she
cannot escape all
the masochistic
ways

The pain, though
dull, reminds her
she is here
alive.


© Sia Jane