Time Wounds All Heels

Maybe what i'll write here is a polemic against time....or maybe a love story....
because here's the thing;
you accidentally burnt your hand, and at first; shocked by the sensation and the rudeness of the interruption, you then, quickly accepted the privilege of engaging in a whole new event.
here you are now. it happened. there's no going back to that moment before you stupidly rubbed your hand against the metal grates of the toaster.

thank you time....now you and i have to hash it out. first you win. then i do...but only on your terms.

and it takes days...it takes as long as it takes..and it doesn't care at all that it's inconvenient for you.

but, there's a love story too...

 'wish it hadn't' gets to mud wrestle with  'it did'
oh! what would blister be without toaster? desire is the root of suffering, and suffering inflames desire... until it's over.

maybe somehow that blister keeps you company. something that reminds you of how much you love and use your thumb. and then....it's gone. healed up....and where are you now? alone. right? blister free in a world that doesn't advocate comfort as much as it loves a good fight.