What I don't think you see
is that your pain
is not only your own.
Like a double-ended knife, caught
between our stomachs, every little thing
that hurts you will hurt
me too, if only
by proxy. By definition, I
am only a secondary character, and my pain
is collateral damage.
You
have a complicated relationship
with pain. I, in comparison,
am simple. All I know
is to hate what hurts you. But you
sharpen yourself on your pain and so
you seek triggers and ways
to deepen this and
let it shape you. But how
can I, when you ask, refuse
you anything? Ask me again, ask
me to twist it deeper for you.
You see, your pain
is not only your own, but
it may as well be when I
trust you blindly
and grasp the handle.