Smilies and metaphors

Losing someone unexpectedly  feels

a little like running your fingertips over a gravel road

at 60 miles per hour.

The pain, intense at first, rips into layer after layer

of skin and nerve endings.

It peels through the top layers

the ones you can see,

and then burns into new ones

before you ever get a chance to see them

Before you really even knew they were there

Eventually the pain stops

Not because the cause of the pain is no more

but because small, jagged, pebbles and rocks

have severed every last nerve ending,

not only your fingers

but your whole hand is numb.

I suppose that is merciful

The numbness

Because if the pain kept coming, I am sure I would die.
Maybe it’s not as merciful as it seems?
Maybe it’s a farce?
Maybe it’s numb because my hand is dead.
Because I have wrapped it in filthy bandages
and refused to change them.
Maybe the infection is growing
running deep through my veins

poisoning my blood.

Ready to seize my heart any moment.

Maybe I will still die.

Maybe I already am.


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