pain

Bedside origami,
A corset of pins turned
Inward,
Find some solace in folding yourself
Into two pieces,
Tubes scratching the back
Of your throat to
Carry out blood and
Bile as
Thick as treacle.

Puncture wound,
Important vein,
Hits the back of the
Teeth before it
Registers on the skin,
Like a cold hammer
Smashing into
Echoed ice.

Cigarette burn,
Cold,
Setting the edge of
My hair alight,
Dusty, bright,
Almost holy.

Bladder spasms
Like boxer’s kicks,
Yellow rodents
Thashing,
Can’t
Even
Speak.

Thick muscle aches,
The kind that make it
Hard to pour milk
Or jack off –
And leave you like
An OAP in the most
Deathly of winters.

A sensory explosion,
Indoor sunburn,
Lighting up your
Leg
Like a pajama on fire.
Cool flannels will
Do nothing.

Five week constipation,
A car with no
Biting point,
Suspended over a toilet
Crying tears that
Have nothing to do with
Sadness.
The mirror hands you
Back your own
Ugliness with a smile
That is not a smile.

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