pain

it is not the many bruises and scratches up and down my legs.

it’s not the time i got pricked with needles or bitten by a dog.

when i hit my knees on the ground more than i can count.

pain was never something i could comprehend,

but to me, a feeling, that should be expressed given the situation.

in those moments, i only remember after.

looking in the mirror as blood ran out from my mouth after i bit the bottom of my tongue.

i didn’t feel a thing.

but, i can say that i think i know what the feeling is.

it’s the hole in my chest.

the pang in my abdomen and the tears that flow as i gaze out my window at the moon and whisper to the wind to carry away what it can handle.

the watery substances come from nowhere.

curled on the floor sobbing.

dry heaves choking every fiber of my being.

thrashing and finding my own warmth,

since there is no one to hold me.

words that mean comfort from what sounds like my voice.

but it struggles to find meaning.

pain is knowing that everything is okay.

and that’s the problem.