Lesson #54: Bruises.

9/11/14.

There is certain thing that hurts me still.

It’s really the most peculiar kind of hurt.

It’s not pain.

It doesn’t sting. It doesn’t pound, or beat, or throb, or itch.

It’s mostly invisible.

It’s like a bruise, almost.

I don’t remember it’s there, until it’s touched,

until it’s rubbed the wrong way.

Then all the colors come back.

All the blues and purples and grays.

It’s not pain.

Just hurt.

It’s not as strong, anymore, though.

It’s faded. It’s going away.

But it just comes back, sometimes, is all.

Like today.

When it’s poked.

It tingles at first, like tears pinching the corner of your eyes. Then it pulsates for a second, or two, depending on the day. Then it lets up.

It’s a funny thing, because bruises are under the skin, but they feel more like open wounds to me.

I mostly try to guard it. But it gets touched anyways.

More on accident, than on purpose.

But when it’s pressed,

it’s like this little release.

A little release.

And it helps each time.

It still hurts.

But I will continue to smile and endure the little bit of hurt that is left.

Because I know these colors won’t last forever.

Day Fifty-Four.

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