My pain and I

I live with my pain, don't you know?

It sits next to me on the couch,

And takes a bite out of every apple I bite.

We share a skin,

Conjoined twins, a connection deeper than life itself.

Isn't it nice

To have a companion as consistent as pain?

Wouldn't you like

To walk with your death?

To play hopscotch over

Puddles of tears.

Blood is boring, don't you think?

So last season, quite old fashioned.

Let us

Dance with ghosts, shall we?

With monsters and demons from our pasts.

Let's breakdance in time to the rhythm of the beat,

Of clanging pots and church bells.

Let us count sheep with our fears,

Staring wide-eyed, frozen at the ceiling,

Scattered with starry eyed companions.