inured
to the windswept, vague,
mildly, gently painful
that used to be a plague.
you haven't taken me away.
drifting, soft drifting
on a sea lethargically lashing
with metal barbs and waves.
it doesn't need to pull me down.
bloodstains on the blinding sun.
it hurts, a warm blister that
swells up any time you say something nice.
you say i'm beautiful.
you say it hurts.
you're killing me, and i don't care.