Pain Relief

I have the best part in the room, if nothing else.
I can look out of the window
at the tree which sometimes contains
pigeons, and the neighbour’s window frame which rarely is void
of natural debris.
Sometimes when it is quiet, the empty smoothie bottle in my bin
will slip downwards
amongst the meaty caress of papers, and the rustling reminds me of
the squirrel we rescued, cared for
and killed unintentionally.
Sometimes when it is very quiet I recall letting a stranger
lick the back of my teeth before I realised
he wasn’t just trying to lean in
and compliment me on my cat shoes.

My forehead stings because of the pain
relief I’ve slathered upon it.
I’ll lead us down a stream of consciousness
if you’re not careful,
and alienate myself.
Mainly then I wanted to describe how much I wanted him to stick
his fingers inside me,
sticky, as we careened down the dark country road,
fog lights reflecting off signs, reflecting off my
McDonald’s smoothie container.
We’re on smoothies again already,
and I haven’t even got to
the best part yet.

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About Anna

Author of the Insanity Aquarium. Current fears include time as a concept, the squishiness of my right eyeball, and not being able to open this jar.
This entry was posted in Darkness and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

14 Responses to Pain Relief

  1. pinkytback says:

    It is so cozy, exciting to slip one’s fingers inside one’s lady, to feel the warmth, moistness ot the inner folds

    Like

  2. Anne Schilde says:

    That so never occurred to me. Just walk up and start licking the back of someone’s teeth, eh? “Oh! Those are…um… very nice cat shoes!” You might be my reason for life.

    Like

    • Anna says:

      I’ve genuinely told my boyfriend that in the event of my death he should send my story ideas notebook to you, and you only. Not for you to pick them up of course (unless you wanted to), but just to have them in the hands of someone who understands. <3

      Like

  3. cantueso says:

    Down to the squirrel that was killed by accident, the poem is wonderful. After that it isn’t anymore, though maybe it is more personal, more your own, where you are alone, though all language is convention.

    Like

    • Anna says:

      Well, you know what they say- ’tis better to write for the self and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self :)

      Like

  4. I loved the way it transitions from plausible-normal (almost) to more and more levels of illusion then back to normal. Seductive, dreamlike and effective.

    Like

  5. Val says:

    Er… sorry about miss pelling, she doesn’t know what she’s doing today. Blame The Who in my headphones…

    Like

  6. Val says:

    This is pretty ‘up’ for you, isn’t it? Love it. (The peom/prose, and your mood!)

    Like

  7. Kristyon says:

    Love it. Can’t remember how I stumbled upon your musings but I’ve been a fan for a year.

    Like

    • Anna says:

      Thank you so much Kristyon! You are more than welcome to come visit and drink Insanity Aquarium octocpus-blend milkshakes whenever you pass by :)

      Like

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