Succulent Pain

The exquisite elation of impending pain, 

Rakes its claws over my skull, the mere

Memory of its mouthwatering torment 

Arresting my movements, reflexes frozen

And receptive to the luscious affliction.

To endure pain is to crave pain, licking

Every drop of its treacherous poison, 

Savoring the searing welts carving a

Map across my skin, inviting the blade,

Tantalized by blood, to explore deeper. 

From pain, one can distill power, refined

And tangible, a liquid fire found only when

A needle punctures flesh, nerves splitting

And throbbing as chemicals swirl, spasming

Within the frayed circuitry of a sadist’s mind. 

To deny agony is to contradict creation.  

Those who evade the ambrosian relish 

Of suffering, who refuse to submit to pain’s 

Tyrannizing control will find themselves swept 

Up in the shuddering pangs of withdrawal. 

Freedom from the flesh can be found 

Snared in the dreamwebs of a masochist,

Thirsting for release, bound by the ropes

Of hellfire and anguish, itching to feel the

Keen bite of an open wound once more.