Why does this hurt so much?

For Raelene, who asked, and for Shelley, who hurts.

Hurts so much, bright agony of light

piercing the slatted blinds and I’m awake.

This is the pain I won’t give up.

Contradiction. I wanted to go somewhere,

so I buttered toast, blasted milk,

drank coffee by the window, looked down to the street,

and all that time, I was a body with corners.

Contradiction. I was soft and I was brittle,

pressing my fingerprints into the burn.

When the wound speaks out, I am grateful

for the company. I’m waiting to see

how okay I’m going to be.