You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘pain’ tag.

My ear has been gurgling for a few days. Making internal sounds that sound like choking and feel like muscle spasms. The choking I get, the Eustachian tubes being cock-blocked, or blocked in any case. The spasms confuse me. There are no muscles. Can tubes quiver? There’s no pain (yet) just an itch that would require utter destruction to scratch.

Given enough time, though, destruction always becomes preferable.

A slip of the hand and prick. You’re bleeding. Your nerves are momentarily severed. A prick and you’re in a world of agony for a moment of time.


Once, when I was a child, my mother dropped a needle. She was in the middle of telling me not to run through the living room because I could step on the needle, when I stepped on it. It pierced through my arch, deeper than a simple prick, though it wasn’t as hurtful as you might imagine.


The pricking is mainly annoying now, painful in a way, but on the whole, a thing to be swatted away.


Take care to be controlled and steady, friends.

A hollowness

and an aching promise

of pain yet to come


If my temperature

runs lower than average

and then increases to the average temperature

this means I have fever

this means I am ill

this means I am ailing


Clammy hands are often

heated by a hot head


A hollowness

and an aching promise

of pain to come

The sentiment of another writer, whose name was never captured and so escape was unnecessary: If I could get passed my frontal lobe, all would be well. Yesterday, the cosmos aligned in such a way as to malign me with formidable foes in an astrological clusterfuck: pain, panic, and Mexican food.  

I feel a bubble

and I know

I have an ulcer

in the space

between my upper and lower



A boy told me

and seduced me


with his diagnosis

that I probably had

a patellar femoral articulation

injury in my knee


My first day


and I was already bleeding

under my thumb

from the separation of the skin

and nail


And I wonder

if anticipatory pain

is the same

as knowing pain

  1. I was at the dentist at 7:30 for them to make the temporary bridge for my teeth. I had three shots and had to raise my hand because I could still feel that shit. I had a total of about 5 shots in my mouth. My ½ a xanax did not really mellow me out much, or so I thought when I was anxious (see #4 below for more).  The laughing gas wasn’t nearly strong enough. I wanted to be high, people. Instead, my highness was barely there and interrupted my searing pain.
  2. The tooth from which the crown came off on the other side likely needs a $700-1,000 root canal. It’s not hurting now but fuck me if I put it off. Which also means I might need this pain pill later on, but let’s face it, I will need a lot more should my tooth really start in. Anyway, the crown was cemented back on.
  3. I go get my second TB test. It’s the same as before except it didn’t bleed as much and the nurse is much friendlier. It still hurt like a motherfucker.
  4. I go home to eat a sandwich. I eat a sandwich. I drink water. I am no longer nervous, but I am groggy from the xanax. I fall asleep. It is 11:30. I do not wake up until 2 and only then, because the anesthesia has worn off and my jaw is sooooooooo sore and my head is aching. I am supposed to be at work. I am fucked. I leave a voicemail for my boss.
  5. I get to work and lock my keys in my car. Okay, I think, this is unfortunate but I can call Bryan to save me because he has a key to my house so he can get a key to my car and brave the ghetto to bring my keys to me. He saves me, but I have to go to public safety to get them to unlock my door because my boss isn’t here. Bryan steals a Pepsi.
  6. So I’m in my office around 3 and look at my calendar. Oh. I am supposed to be at a training on campus from 2-5. And I realized that’s probably where my boss and admin. asst is. So I go. But then I have a brain malfunction and can’t remember which is the right building. I have to call a student worker at the office and we figure out it’s one of the buildings that are the farthest from where I’m at. I finally get there. It’s approximately 3:20.
  7. I walk into the training at the front of the auditorium, so everyone sees me to come in. I meet a lady who asks me to sign in so I oblige. I turn to go to my seat, miss a step, and fall, spilling the contents of my purse all around. If everyone wasn’t already looking, the presenter said, “oooooh, are you okay?” I died a little inside.
  8. I didn’t have any caffeine until 2:30 today. This is tragedy enough.
  9. I have eaten 6 of my 18 allotted Weight Watchers points today, which is approximately 250-300 calories and very much doubt I will eat much more because I want to just give up and sleep. Perhaps I will eat another orange later. Or not. I’d rather consume a pain pill than food. Lack of food may be contributing to my headache but I am confident pain killers can make me forget that.


To review, as my friend says, sometimes you just need to go to sleep and try again tomorrow. In addition, I should give a shout out to Paul for reminding me to curse when I bitch…I hope I have done you proud.

I was called

mother today

and it felt right

not like the stick

in my arm

it was made

to sting, to ache, to burn, to bruise, to bubble, to burst

I knew there would be nothing between us, when you said I was easy to talk to, that you were comfortable telling things to me. Too close to the words he said, and I knew you were a different face, a different name, even a different man, but also, the same. He would tell me things I didn’t want to know. Things that would have made me happier if I didn’t know. Girls, drugs, independence. I’d nod reassuringly and then, die a little inside. Take the words like a dagger in the heart and smile, betraying myself over and over again. You. You want to talk for hours. You want to laugh for hours. But you throw in things, don’t you, just like he did to be sure to push me away. Girls. Distance. Goals. To be sure I know you won’t let me in. It pains me to know you can’t see past my lies and know, in your heart and conscience, you should let me go because I won’t let you go. I will hate you soon because you think, like he did, that telling me what you want and don’t want absolves you of any pain I might inflict on myself in your honor.

She lays in the hospital bed

moaning in pain

her mouth forming a perfect “O”

where her toothless smile should be

her eyes squeezed shut

as if every fiber of her being

wants to purge itself

of itself

of the pain and disease inside


And I wonder:

when can I leave?

SOB with me

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