the scab
*****

the scab sits patiently
knowing it will be picked
what else are scabs for
but to be picked

pick, pick, pick
until finally
the wound reveals itself
once more

it is as red
and as raw
as it was
when it first marked your body

you poke and prod
and squeeze
to get that
pleasureful pain

drip, drip, drip
and you focus on the pain
you relish it
it becomes all you know

you lose yourself
in a sea of ecstasy
and agony
until you can take no more

in tears
you finally leave it be
so another scab can form
ready to be picked again