Biting the lip
the same place
as a
child
Ever since that
fall, she had
always bit
sharply
When she fell
a scar cut
deep, leaving behind
tissue
Never healing it
was always so
raw, ripped and
sore
The blood tasted
of metal coins
cold and sweet
bitter
Now in her
thirties, she chews
on the same
flesh
Despite the surgery
the wound remained
old habits
unbroken
Tonight she bites
down, and tastes
her childhood
pain
Even now she
cannot escape all
the masochistic
ways
The pain, though
dull, reminds her
she is here
alive.
© Sia Jane