the pain is a gift
this time
like the two drains that
curled up and around under
my skin, and the bruised ribs
that i felt under the cut
nerve endings
like the scar, stretched and
light on the sides, keloid in the
middle, that reaches armpit
to armpit, and the times i
stained various shirt sleeves with
blood that i wasn’t able to feel
like the first person who saw
me naked saw me as a man,
and never mind what came after,
because every part of me was
seen, and loved, however briefly
that may have been
and the pain is a gift
this time,
like sitting shirtless in worn
boxers, giving myself a shot
in the stomach every week, and
the bruise if i put the needle in wrong
like every time i cut myself shaving,
like i haven’t been doing this
for the last close to nine years,
the face that looks back at me
from the mirror is mine,
and mine alone
and i have given myself many gifts,
not just the pain of rebuilding myself
from the ground up, but the beauty of
that first sunrise after thinking it was time
i didn’t see another, and the getting to
grow old as the man i was always
meant to be
-
Author:
Boaz Priestly (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 24th, 2026 23:59
- Category: Love
- Views: 6
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship
Offline)
Comments2
I feel pain with this poem, deep and profound buried under layers of clothing and skin hidden beneath muscle and fat deeper than organs and beyond the soul. It leaves me sad. A very powerful poem
Thank you! I wasn’t sad when writing this poem, though some of the subject matter certainly is.
You are welcome and so glad you were not sad.
well written. Your poem revolves around the complex relationship between pain and personal growth. The poet reflects on their experiences of physical and emotional pain, suggesting that these struggles are not just burdens but also gifts that contribute to their identity and personal evolution.
🌈🏳️⚧️✨💖
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