2024
Sometimes the pain is like a new wound, bleeding fresh, a gush of crimson that only a tourniquet can save.
Sometimes the pain is a cross-cross of old scars, patterned across the skin like a manic tattoo.
Sometimes the pain is a sharp ache, like a corkscrew, digging into flesh.
It’s been a year but feels like just yesterday I was saving my 10.
You were my pain scale 10, darling, losing you a pain which will make all future pain negligible.
Few things compare to the pain of a broken heart.
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