I sought the feeling of pain,
So I punctured my ears and nose
And wore golden stars on them
I had dark lines, shapes drawn on my crooks ‘n’ sleeves---
Tiny stars running down my crooks
Dandelions on my sleeves;
That every time sadness knocks
I’d wish on the dandelions that she might vanish
And if she should persist
I’d bore my skin the more
For I love the feeling---
Exploring pain in its various genres;
Like I do the comets and stars
Which I now know in and out
Yeah, I adore the experience, having diverse flavours of pain
Glowing amidst aches running down my spine
Growing to reveal queenly beauty;
Life will sure be proud of me
For her lessons I have well embraced:
Pain is a headmistress to mortals,
Beauty is birthed right amongst thorns
Mama will be glad to see her girl
Shining through punctures hurts and scars.
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