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 2018 M. J. Governo. All rights reserved.
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