letter to pain

Pain pain go away burning swollen, eye-watering delinquent aching eroding carving shaping pain pain go away and don’t come back another day. My pain is not your pain. Sandpaper pain rubbing buzzing shaking stamping clamping. Melting pain dissolving corroding and on and on pain. My my pain not your aching have-a-bath pain. This is full on who turned on all the switches pain? The stage-hand turns on all the effects? Dumb pain. But don’t get me wrong this is not the pain that had me, what was that word? Stalking? Pacing pain. No this is not that pain today. That pain had me in its grip and had me pacing. All I could do was pace and hope it would go and it did. That was the kind of pain that feels like it will pass. I went to bed with this and woke up with it. Oh do not talk of pain in pains earshot you dumb fool. Don’t you know anything? You really are quite the ingenue. Ignore it and it goes away, didn’t you know? Well, that’s what they say but I’m not going to teach you to suck eggs. Is hyper-hyper vigilance how you keep guard over pain? I mean yesterday you went for a walk yes? Did you feel the pain then? Well can you remember? You heard a wood-pecker didn’t you? Drilling its thrilling beat out into the clear blue air. You had wanted to stop and train your head like an ornithologist turning to examine the branches for the sound of the bird you had recognised. Ah yes Mildred a woodpecker bird. Ah yes you might have declared. But the nature reserve was about to close and your small but economical car would have been locked in the carpark. Or was that the day before? Was it the pain that stopped you recalling? You really ought to keep a diary. (Auto transcribed as a dose of diarrhea). How do you expect to keep track without one? Perhaps you don’t want to keep track and just emerge all the time into your own becoming. Is the keeping track what makes you feel the pain? Except that every once in a while you will want to remember something you did or something someone reminds you, you have done. That’s the truth isn’t it? Eh? So the woodpecker fills the air. Such a thrilling hammer drill of a sound growing softer as you walk away from it. Gorgeous you think but it’s not devoid of aggression. It’s that child’s machine gun uncannily mechanistic quality that thrills. The erotic exotic woody wood of the wood pecker glistening plumage clinging to the trunk somewhere high above your head. That sound was a release from pain. You are finding it hard to recall the pain. Is pain in the emergence then? You were in pain and you got by so what changed? You see I understand. Can you tell me what allowed your pain-wracked form to walk the prescribed loop around the nature reserve? Do you remember the dream you had about how hard it is to feel anything these days? OMG faces are the pinnacle of feeling alive and shagging is what you do after choosing the component body parts of your choice on a programme called naked attraction. It’s about as real as going to the gym is real. Oh not that, not that but this. You really do take the biscuit my friend. You say you want to feel. You say affect is feeling and feeling is the stuff of the cosmos. So why is your apparatus so dysfunctional? Can you tell me that? Perhaps you are in a cross entangled state between the mind and body receiving apparatuses? Like a prisoner left up on the fence after being shot whilst trying to escape. Oh have I hit the nail on the hand? Do you know why Jesus can’t eat M&Ms? They keep falling through his palms. Good luck with the pain today. Why not have a fizzy opiate and give yourself a break?