POETRY

Pain is Good

Am I bleeding out?

Photo by Road Trip with Raj on Unsplash

I guess this pain is good, right? Like bleeding is a sign of life

but this bleeding feels like the loss of my life

Am I bleeding out?

I thought I’d grown immune to heartache at this point in my life but now I keep thinking about what it must be like inside the moments between getting shot and being dead

Does it feel something like this?

I thought it’d be ominous but you gifted me nostalgia instead

I think, because, when you withdrew your blade I saw you see my insides on my outsides and still choose to walk away

So is this wound you left like the one she did— chronic, clotty, thick, and slow?

I still carry hers with me because it doesn’t kill but still, I never heal

or is this one more dangerous— acute, pressured, desperate, and fast? arterial bleeds are fatal, yes but at least the suffering doesn’t last

It’s just that I didn’t see this coming because I didn’t look and nothing about us ever suggested that I should

and your presence wasn’t even sharp because you’re the blunt, sure, and consistent type

lowering my defenses little by little over time you proved that you were good

I guess I proved that I was not asking for anything and while I’m expecting nothing you’re bringing up commitment isn’t something I demanded or needed

I would have been ok with anything but I am not ok with no things

I am not ok now I care that I am alone but before you, I was fine alone

how do I go back to I was fine alone?

I forgot how long the pain persists and I forgot how long the longing lasts and I forgot how much pain feels like home to me you are home to me you are pain is good … .. .

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