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Pain Addict

J Ann Crowder

Sometimes I'm a bellowing slump—I know
 
Addicted to tears as I grapple my pain like a pillow or an eternal fountainhead—my thirst collapsing upon her
 
I paint myself as an addict to dark, blackened skies cradling a tearful girl clinging to corners—knees drawn in
 
How my heart quickens with my tears
 
I feel my breath hastening, running after pain
 
Thus, I joyfully tremble underneath my each tear simmering like a hot steam of rain in a summer jungle
 
Don’t confuse me for a pessimist
 
PLEASE DON’T!
 
I cherish splendored things and all embellished delights in nature and every nurturing resplendence of life
 
I joy in each of my senses, grateful for what they gift to me
 
Still, an abyss lingers on as pain
 
I have learned wisdom in embracing her
 
So, I’ll gladly weep in my corners waiting for a needle’s sting to relieve a quaking and pounding inside
 
Tears merely release a choking vapor in my lungs
 
For, if I held pain within, her burning heat would consume me
 
Instead, her beauty I find like a diamond chiseled from earth’s cooled, angry tempest
 
you see? Without beauty forged in pain we’d search endlessly within earth’s aftermath of tumultuous, flaming storms only to find a hollow blackness of burnt ash left behind
 
NO! ’Tis a metaphor to glean and earth was meant to be our teacher
 
Indeed, searching through pain’s heap of rubble and ash leads us to diamonds forged in the heat of her belly
 
These are the sweet dualities of virtue and vice, love and hate, 'fire and ice’
 
Thus, I seek a calming center within a storm’s saffire eye and I wake upon heaven’s springtime dew
 
Such is an eclipse—a colossal collide
 
Only then does true beauty ignite, hiding within our pain’s dark trellises

Written April 29th, 2017.

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