The Wildflowers and the Bees

I have this sort of familiarity with pain and longing A sort of familiarity I don't understand Because only when I suffer I feel real Even after months of happiness I find myself searching for it like a crack addict Clinging to it As I've come to realize it's a weird way to cope An odd way of reminding myself I am not numb That I feel And I feel strongly Because I spent so long unable to. A sort of emptiness like a hollow corpse Already dead as a child before the wildflowers and bees took over Filling me with life But I still pinch myself Needing the sting of pain To know I still feel To know the bees haven't died and the wildflowers haven't withered To see the blood Just to know I still bleed And that my life didn't up and leave