There’s no hierarchy in pain.
Suicide is said to be…
I am a battered woman
longing for the source of the sacrilege
That the numbness erased.
Envy the dead
As you strut
Through the forest
And over the ravine.
I pray that you find what you seek.
Albeit I know I didn’t satisfy.
Pain is mitigated through daily distractions
Tossed through the breach as labile sexual deviance.
Please exorcise me…