i never thought i’d reach
a moment where i’d be calling my pain
scars and scabs oozing with pus
bruises and sprains tend to fracture reality
but somehow agony
has turned into wisdom.
i wish i could have witnessed the transformation for myself
instead of being numbed by happy pills
but perhaps that’s what i needed at the time.
embracing what has hurt me
is what makes it mine.
i add to the anthology of my life
and see that i have every genre imaginable.
i am tragic, comedic, absurd, realism,
poetry, rap, classical, jazz, impressionism,
collage, renaissance, abstract and awesome
all rolled into one.
i consider certain events that have happened to me
that i wish never did,
drama i’ve been a part of since i was a kid
and see that removing the pain would be like
extracting the salt from food
or the alcohol from wine–
what would be the point?
my life has been flavorful,
sometimes over-seasoned but always
sometimes horribly clashing
and last but not least,