Imagine a day spent
in pure, twisted agony
based completely on
perception.

Imagine the pain of
knives through hands when
there’s naught but a
sharpie drawing on knuckles

Imagine a flame burning
toes, burning tendons
when only a cat brushes
heavy on your feet

Imagine a morning
of crying for no one
when everyone’s out
in the living room, waiting
to say good morning to you.

Why do you torture yourself so?

Why do you always imagine?