Pain killer

I’m writing because it’s the only thing I am currently capable of negotiating with. It comforts me to know that I can choose these words with reckless discretion with which no one has aptitude to change. However, I ask your consideration for the motive of my contention.

 

I know who I am. Because only I can feel what stews internally. Not you. I wake up the only one knowing that, for me, this is another day in a circle that I am to weak to spread my love amongst. And I lay down to greet sleep having completed my nightly rendition of buttered oatnut bread and shitty guitar licks. These are things that only I know.

But when you break the heart of the one person you’ve ever loved, you realize that you’re not at all the person you thought you were. It’s at that point that the sidewalks start to cramp your feet from beneath. It’s at that point that you wrestle with the moon at night begging it for blackness. It’s at that point your chest, not your hands, begins to shake with one fucking scary refusal to never die down. It’s more than I can bear to explain, so I have to ask you to understand that I am a good man telling good lies.

Everything seems so far away now. My reach for the shower door comes with a deep steel pain. The very bathroom itself is a cold, aching mile away. Even once I’ve made it, my skin shivers and shifts over my bones like an earthquake under the hot water. It’s this very pain that is slowly killing me.



-ndj


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NatetheNotwist
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