PainPleasure
I walk a path where shadows play,
Where silence hums, where terrors stay.
There, within, a secret blooms,
A rose of thorns in hidden rooms.
It’s not the wound that calls my name,
Not loud with fire, not bright with flame.
But the whisper, low and deep,
A comfort found where others weep.
It is the touch, the raw, the real,
A private war, a sacred seal.
A dance between love and ache,
An unmarked path the soul must take.
To some, a flaw, a shame to tame,
But I’ve learned to find the beauty in pain.
A shadowed friend, a twisted guide,
That leads me where my truths reside.
So let them judge, let them not know
The strength that in these moments grow.
For in that darkness, raw and cold,
I am awake, fierce, and bold.
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