this is unexpected. though i don’t know why.


last friday night we were out at a bar. i had my elbow propped on the table, holding my cigarette such that the smoke did not blow in our faces. i did not realize that my arm was precariously close to the lit end of his cigarette and he said to watch out or i’d get burned, and play-acted like he was going to put it out on my arm. i held out my arm, daring him to do it. he said, are you sure? and i looked at him defiantly (or so i imagine) and he did. i was completely shocked by the fact that it didn’t hurt at all. five minutes later when he went to the restroom, i put my cigarette out on my other arm. i wanted to see if i could make it hurt more.

unfortunately, i sort of instinctively did it in the quickest, least painful way possible. so now i have these matching cigarette burns on each arm. (well, his, the one on my right arm, is a little worse.) and now, a week later, they hurt. but it’s that dull, throbbing pain. also, it kind of reminds me that it didn’t not hurt when it happenned, but that i liked it. it’s all i can do not to put out another one right in the same spot. imagine how that would feel, right in an open wound. i think the only thing keeping me from doing it is knowing that my mother is coming to visit in a couple of weeks and i don’t want to have to explain myself. i can pass these off as oven burns if they heal enough.

and it’ll seem more like a song
and less like it’s math
when you pull on my hair
and bite me like that
and bite me and scratch me like that


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