Favorite Type of Pain

Sometimes, people can become addicted to certain kinds of pain.

I’ve become addicted 
to the simple things.

Like pouring myself coffee
- A little too hot.

Letting it roll over my tongue
and singe to my taste buds,
It’s my favourite kind of heat.

Just like the way you always leave
is my favourite type of pain.

You leave before I can get
attached
- Usually.

I think you left a little late
this time.
Because you stayed long enough,
for me to glue back my heart.
And you left as soon
as it started to dry.

But I like it.
I really do.
I like it more than when
I burn my tongue on coffee.
Or when my fingers bleed
from steel guitar strings.

I love it even more
than when I cannot breathe
when my body aches
and when my head is spinning
and all I can see 
are your light eyes
from behind my closed eye.

And I love it more,
than the moments when
I want to tear my heart out
because it’s beat it’s constant
and it won’t ever stop
and it gets louder and l o u d e r
as every second goes by
and it’s all that I can hear
and �"

-

I put my hands to my head.
it should be swelling.

I’m insane.

The one thought I can think,

‘‘You’re my favourite kind of pain.’’

Author's Note

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Reviews

[songstress]

I like how your title and synopsis contrasts with the tone of your poem. It catches the readers attention, yet kind of jolts them awake because you head in a new direction.

You start with the small and tangible feeling of burning one's tongue on coffee, and lead up to the intangible sentimentality of a significant other or possible one leaving. It paints a clear and distinct picture in one's head.