Status:
Finished |
Genre: Poetry |
House:
Booksie Classic
Sear
Burns hurt,
that's what it said.
WebMD was more specific.
First degree,
second,
third.
Enough, and it would stop hurting.
Once the nerves were burned away,
there would be nothing left to feel with.
He said I was lucky,
my hand was only second degree.
According to WebMD.
So lucky he only held it to the stove
long enough to sear it,
second degree at most.
It could be worse, he could have cooked it.
I wish it had been longer.
Long enough not to feel anything.
© Copyright 2020 M. J. Governo. All rights reserved.
Booksie Popular Content
Other Content by M. J. Governo
Short Story / Flash Fiction
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
Popular Tags
love
romance
life
death
poetry
fantasy
poem
fiction
horror
pain
sad
depression
story
dark
hate
family
adventure
mystery
hope
war
girl
god
hurt
short
action
friendship
heart
sadness
humor
friends
murder
school
suicide
drama
loss
magic
sex
fear
lost
blood
thriller
teen
funny
vampire
boy
humour
crime
abuse
dreams
alone
