Dialogue With Pain

Pain

 Is at the core

 Of my being—

The filter

Through which

All is perceived.

Pain is a mantra:

“It hurts so much,

It hurts so much,”

The drum beat

Underlying the music

Of my days,

My nights.

When it is worst

It feels like

Ripping and tearing

And I can picture

Raw meat and bone and gristle

Smashing together.

The delicate dance of the tissues

Has been disrupted

And my bits and pieces

Slam dance with every movement,

Bone on bone,

Cracking,

Grinding.

I hear the pops and squeals

Of protest

And only hope

No further edges are fraying. 

Pain

Wakes me from a sound sleep—

“I am here.  I am here.”

It yanks me from my love’s embrace—

“I am here.  I am here.”

And when it gets boisterous—

“I AM HERE!  I AM HERE!”—

It pushes everything else

Out of my mind, my being.

I am the pain and it is me.

It breaks down my resolve—

“I AM HERE!  I AM HERE!”

And taunts my attempts at distraction.

I lie still, quiet, and yet

It finds me,

Throbbing and stabbing,

Waves of ache.

I negotiate with the pain—

I know, “YOU ARE HERE,

YOU ARE HERE,”

But can I have my life back?

Can I have some joy back?

(“I AM HERE! I AM HERE!”)

Can I have some peace back?

(“I AM HERE!  I AM HERE!”)

Can’t I please just have my life back?

“It hurts so much

It hurts so much”

The mantra clicks along

Like a railroad track,

And I try to go about my days

Pretending it’s not there.

“I AM HERE!  I AM HERE!”

Like a battering ram,

The pain bursts through

And claims its center stage.

“I AM HERE!”

It triumphs, back at the core

Where it feels it belongs.

Exhausted, my being moans quietly,

“Am I here?”