Do you remember that trick
That was taught to us
When we were making a fuss.
We’d just tumbled or stumbled and hurt ourselves.
And our family said to bite our cheek or tongue or finger because it helps.
We started doing it all the time
Every time we got hurt, but the trick kinda internalized.
Learning to stop one pain with another,
The flame doesn’t hurt your skin if you’re being smothered.
So you’d have bite marks on your finger
Nail imprints on your hands,
Pain that lingered.
But then that wasn’t enough
And you had to keep trying new things
Because you were getting too tough.
Bruises in places where no one would see.
Hidden nicely behind a tee.
And suddenly the pain started being in your heart and head
And you were so confused
How do you stop this pain with something greater
Until you finally figured it out, how to stop this blues.
Your trick still works,
It just needs to sting
No more nails, you want metallic imprints from the tines of your fork
Biting down on your pillow as you dig deeper into your skin
Trying to find some way to overcome what’s inside and win.
Battling fire with fuel.
Why isn’t it working?
Why is the pain you feel still there, still real?
But it doesn’t stop.
It never stops.
And now you don’t know how to stop.
