" when i was six, i burnt my hand,
and when you touch me, it feels
exactly like that.
daggers in your skin, all on that one
spot; a pain that eats your flesh away
and changes body into bruise.
(i’m always surprised it leaves no scar)
it doesn’t hurt. just stings a little,
in the unpleasant kind of way, but
also like a wound you keep pressing
because you’re addicted to the shivers
it sends up and down your spine.
(i never thought i could get addicted
to the power you have over me, though
here i am, hissing through clenched
teeth as i mark myself and wish it was you) "