On being constantly in pain

I am a master of running away

I run away from my pain everyday

I am a proficient mortician and make myself look much more alive than I am every day

I mask all of my emotions by applying make up

And screwing in a happy face, carefully and tightly,

Right on the hairline and exactly below the jaw, so nobody would see 

Nobody could see the blood and the bruises and the powdery white stain of the crushed painkiller I snort every now and then 

So I can stop feeling this absolute dread

This complete certainty that I was never tailored for happiness

And I know damn well so many people aren't either

I wanted to find the way to be perfect but still it's not enough

So I found the way to run away from the pain

And hide it so well, sometimes not even I can find it

But if I've left all my sadness and pain alone, I do wonder

If along the way, somehow, I became my pain

If I am the embodiment of my sadness

Because when I left my pain and my sadness alone in the dark long enough

I became just as lonely as everything I tried to run from

And hiding is no longer an option

When you're in enough pain to the point of becoming it, there's no way to hide

That desperate scream

That violent yank

That poisoned bloodstream

That familiar tremor 

It will be all impossible to ignore

Eventually, everything bleeds out.