Monday, May 5, 2025

stinging nettles (or how i stopped being afraid of falling in love again)

i used to be scared of getting near and stung by these nettles growing here my first brush with them, unsettled fear, abused me with scars, upsetting smear the pain took a while before it fled and i couldn't sleep; was tormented it felt like my hands were scorching red and stomped by a furious thoroughbred the stings were relentless, throbbing shrieks as i drowned in freezing sweaty streaks my vision was ghostly white and bleak my hearing awash in high-pitched creaks i woke up alive and traumatized with lingering pain and bloodshot eyes this core memory forever lies engraved in my soul; a lesson wise but now i'm more sick of being scared and tired of this ghost that's haunting bare these nettles are healthy, tasty fare i'll miss out on life if i don't dare and if hurt befalls upon me still and i be in bed and deathly ill please know that i chose from my own will  i'd rather her touch, pricked by her quills  than shiver alone in bitter chills


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