by David Luis
This state of mind does not become me.
A reaching and outstretched arm with nothing to grab turns into a clenched fist,
this time kept to myself, waiting for a reason to reach again.
Yet another nail hammered in.
Pierce me again, hit me again, leave me reaching again, keep me hoping, hold me down.
The pain becomes addicting.
I need it. I need to feel it again. I need to feel again.