Painful Pleasure
It’s the kind of pain that I find lingering in my throat –It leaves me blinking back reality and rediscovering dreams I promised myself that I’d forget.
Apprehensively I subject and succumb to the cold fingers of this moment…
I feel foolish for previously assuming my attire would matter,
Because as my heart rips, so does my shirt.
Immediately afterwards my guilt drops from my waist and falls further from my knees.
The bareness of my sanity eludes me, once again, to a recurrent nightmare.
I yank at my lungs and pull the deep breaths evenly over my head.
Using my toes, I grab the surface beneath me – forgetting where I am.
The idea of my own humanity seeps throughout my muscles
And I slowly start to slip into a personal regression.
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