Can you get high on pain?

I’m bleeding from places I didn’t know still hurt

I rip up half-healed scabs, in a frenzy of despair

I ride the pain, like Kali on her tiger, howling for blood

I rage and rend and tear every emotion I’ve ever felt

I feel their lifeblood staining my hands, my limbs

The hearts shooting unending geysers of pain at me

Oh, Draupadi’s saree was much shorter than these

High on the crest of pain I ride, alone in the shadow

Of the black hole where a being called “I” once was

Salted waters add fuel to the consuming fire

Choking wheezes smother as insubstantial figures

Wraiths of deeds long past, of failures, of mistakes

Scream through every bone in my body, echoing,

Telling me they knew all along, that I was just

Another spineless woman, doomed to forever fail

Forced to be reduced, cell by cell, into a plaything

Of society’s demands, of my own inabilities

That my touch would curse the touched with loss

That my words would trail canyons of grief

That the ones I loved would turn away, in disgust

For I was fallen, far too low for any help to reach me

For I am just a vessel, a flesh casing for the pain

The pain that would be the only emotion allowed

To me

Thanks to Thomas R. Barton, JD
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