Please Hurt Me Again

Reads: 481  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

A poem about the craving of pain and emotional turmoil.

“Do you know why I love vodka?”

You slurred, a lazy grin painting your face in the shadows.

“It burns going down. I used to binge drink it to punish myself for being such a dirty little slut.”

You giggled drunkenly, and I felt as if you’d sliced clean through my soul. You were only a child, a child who relied on the burn of bad decisions to get you through the night.

But I too craved pain.

And so I drank with you, and it did burn did burn going down, and in that evening of dizziness, it was enough to take the hurt I felt inside away.

But when I woke up the hurt inside me had doubled.

And I wondered why we as humans craved such pain.

I wondered why, when I felt like I could take no more, I would curl into myself and pull at my own hair until I had fistfulls.

I wondered why I would slice at my own skin and go to bed with my thighs burning with the sting of hundreds of cuts.

And I wondered why, when the world came crashing down, I would scream at the top of my lungs for someone to bruise me until all I could see was black.

Girls gone masochist to numb the pain they felt with their very souls.

“Do you know why I love heroin?”

You looked me in the eye, stone cold sober.

“Because it hurts but oh God does it feel good. The prick in your skin feels like hell, but you have a big, crazy grin.”

A recurring theme with you. A blossoming theme with me.

Because right now, all I want in the world is skin turned the pretty colors of  bruises or burns or blood.

And I wonder if anything at all can take this pain away.

Submitted: December 14, 2014

© Copyright 2022 Nocturnal Ponderings. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

Facebook Comments