Dirty Nails Hide Clean Slate

By , Johnson City, TN
Pain

I remember when pain
Used to mean something.
The tears would fall
Like rain drops
On dirty windowsills
In the early waning
stages of a
joyless Spring.
I could enjoy
Pain,
Suffering,
All that good stuff.
Now,
It’s just more white noise,
There’s no feeling
In a wound.
Or at least,
There’s no wounds
That can’t be healed.
And that just makes
It all the more
Painless.





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HasntWrittenInAgesThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Mar. 14, 2011 at 12:20 am
I really love this poem and the overall concept. i like how feeling no pain makes it all the more painless. that part is kinda funny. probrably just me. do your dance.
 
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