Fingertips

Something about the darkness

Filled with sparks of static from

Blankets against fingertips,

Power in my body releasing

Light storms, often painful

Reminders of what I am made of.

Awake at night, I remember

My fingertips — capable of giving

Pain and feeling pain

When body and blanket

Fight back with electric fingers, arms

And ammunition. Recoil at the

Touch, but loose limbs still give

What they’ve gotten. White

Shocks surround me, and

I shiver at the damage

My fingertips have caused,

At the light storms, often painful

Reminders of what I’ve done.