“You would think yourself used to pain by now, that nothing truly ever changes and it all hurts the same, but it does and then again, it doesn't; pain can never hurt the same way twice over.
Some days, it's just a scratch, you can wash it away with laughter and lock it behind your eyelids where daylight can't remind you of it; other days, it's a staggering bruise, black and blue like a punch right in the gut out of nowhere— you'll never know when again you can breathe easy. And then there's the open wound, it's the kind of hurt that seems to be quiet but isn't really so quiet at all, because it lashes out blindly with claws and teeth that almost always leaves you feeling bloodied and torn too wide open.
So the next time, when over generalizing mouths and fingers tell you that pain has too bland a sense of humor and can only hurt humanity again and again just so that it could amuse itself, call them liars right in their faces. Because the things they're saying, none of it is true. The prisoner who had been born in your rib cage bathed in blood knows it, just as well as all your limbs know it.
Be more gentle with yourself, you deserve to be whole too.”
