No matter how much you douse your skin
the blood still seeps from where it was smitten
and though you try to ignore the pain you're in
you can't forget how deep you were bitten.
The wounds of flesh are there for all to see
and they don't grow prettier with the time,
a constant reminder of memory
blighted by the thought of a painful grime.
And yet the truth is that you feel no pain,
no hurtful hints of hideous horror,
but people can see your blood slowly drin
and fear that you will feel it tomorrow.
You can't recover from physical sores
but the concept of emotion just bores.
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