My hand squeezes tight and cramps
too tight...
too tight to even feel what it was I was groping for in the darkness anyway
so I leave...
do I leave and never come back?
Pain shoots through this cloudy moment of impure thoughtlessness
and I'm awake
for once.
Or twice.
My hand squeezes tight over my chest and cramps and I sleep...
for good.
Or bad.
My hand squeezes tight and I wait for the cramp with that sick moment of masochistic anticipation that excites me like nothing else...
but though it comes, it has changed and I fear with more sick thoughts of worry that i will never be whole again because of that absence of pain...
it hurts.
Or pleases.
My hand releases and relief floods my soul like it has never before
and I'm done.
Or...
no, I'm done.