Wet Dog Smell

Pain isn’t parallel 

Pain is uninvited, stored in the attic and locked in a black leather chest

Pain can’t even comprehend pain

Pain lingers and overstays

Pain is not a friend nor an enemy

Pain is pain

It’s cold and it burns going down

Pain is sinking into the couch with my eyes closed and tears creeping down my flushed violet cheeks

It’s wet dog smell and grit under my fingernails as i messily strike the chords to Indiana 

Pain is turning the heat up just to feel my skin burn, just to feel anything

But the truth is I can bare all this pain

I can get angry, i can turn it up to thirty eight

I can hear it knocking and open the door 

I can hate who I am and decide not to be that anymore

If I can hate, i can love 

If I will die, I shall live 

The thing about pain is it stays until it’s too drunk to get up

And too tired to care

But the thing about pain 

Is that god damnit I’m fucking writing again 

The thing about pain is that I feel closer to my mother than I have ever before

And I look in the mirror and I don’t feel like being mean anymore

I want to know my dad not because I need anything but

God damnit I just love him.

And suddenly I miss the sound of my brother whistling as he paces in his boxers

I’m aching to be together again but I know it’s unrealistic

I can’t turn back time, even if I could I wouldn’t want to 

Even if I could it’s out of my hands 

The thing about pain is that it breeds change 

It creates new plans

But the thing about pain is there’s nowhere to hide

It comes looking for you, no matter how hard you try

It beats you to a pulp, takes a hit at your pride

But the thing about pain is that you need it 

To learn how to survive.