Because I need the pain
I need not to feel my life happening
I won’t open up and free my veins
Because I need the pain
I don’t want to understand what I can’t understand
Because I need the pain
I need to stay frozen in acid rain
Because I need the pain
I don’t want to see
What I want to be
I’ll keep the blain
Because I need the pain
I’ll paint my life in blood
But I won’t let it stain
Because I need the pain
As I lay moribund, maybe
Remind me of the day
My time has reached its last decay
But until then I’ll laugh and play
Because I need this. I need the pain.
About the Creator
Tera Summers
Ive been wringing since I was like 7 or 8. I love to write about all I have experienced. I want to thank you in advance for your reads and support!
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Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson4 days ago in Fiction
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