room of pain, ii

Pain. 

I remember the Room of Pain

The doors were locked, bolted shut

The windows concrete

Thin; I fought so hard to break them

I did. 

Bloodied, scratched, scarred

Pain. 

Blood dried, scratches healed.

Scars lightened. 

Pain.

Pain stays, lingers

Sways like a wave. 

Shallow, shallow, shallow,

Deep. 

I take one step too far 

and I drown in it. 

You taught me how to see 

Pain.

You taught me how to feel 

Pain. 

I can small pain. 

I smell salt air

I smile.

I stay longer to 

smell more

and more.

I don't smell it now. 

Accustomed. 

I leave; pass the 

time

When I return,

I smell salt air. 

That is how I smell

Pain. 

I smell it.

I taste it.

I see it. 

I feel it.

I hear it.

I sense it. 

My stomach, my hands,

my soul. 

I escaped the Room of 

Pain. 

But I drag the chain

behind me as I walk

away from it.

A link here. 

Three links there. 

An accumulation of 

Pain. 

Questions, I question everything.

I question with a word. 

Why?

I starred in Sadness.

Pain.

The spotlight hit; I was ready. 

Tears fall, on cue. 

Pouring down. 

Days. Moments. 

Nights. 

They were sold out shows,

standing room only. 

I swam in riches of 

tears and tissues. 

Bedspreads and pillowcases.

Pain. 

Anger was the sequel.

The next best thing. 

A cameo of sadness

sprinkled into the plot.

Pain. 

Screams, pressure.

They satisfied a bit

until it grew stronger.

Pain.

Knives, clippers, 

sharp.

Pain.

They took it away,

for a moment. 

And another.

And another. 

And another.

Numb. 

Like the smell. 

The crowds stood up 

to leave a show,

where I was already

Alone. 

Time for a pop, 

of color.

Scarves are pretty,

Patterns and details 

and color.

Crowds like colors. 

I drape it around me. 

Not impressed, 

they tell me, "More!"

"More, we want." 

I wrap it once. 

Twice. 

Three times. 

The crowd claps, cheers, 

hollers each time. 

Telling me of their approval.

Its tight. 

I feel dizzy. 

Pain. 

This skit aired 

three times. 

I became rich from them. 

I canceled my shows.

I was wealthy.

Pain.

Wealthy and alone. 

You taught me how to be alone. 

You taught me to hate 

Myself. 

Pain. 

Unworthy of love, 

because I never had yours. 

Pain.

Unworthy of affection, 

because I never had 

yours. 

Pain. 

Unworthy of pride, 

because you never showed

yours.

I am nothing. 

I am no one. 

The forgotten dead. 

I could have,

died. 

Pain. 

I walk far away from the 

Room of 

Pain. 

But I see the chains. 

I feel them.

My ankles heavy.

You taught me best. 

Pain.

I lean to you. 

Catch me!

I fall.

Fall on my face 

with the weight of 

my chains.

You see nothing. 

Hear nothing. 

Feel 

Nothing. 

Pain. 

I cry for you, 

out loud. 

Hear me!

Catch me!

Turn around! 

Come closer!

I fall.

Pain. 

I get up, the same 

routine. 

I hurt myself,

so you don't have to. 

You do. 

It adds, 

accumulates. 

It hurts.

Can you hear me, 

Pain?


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