Pain waits

 Imagine what pain says.

I’ll keep in touch.

I’ll write from inside your bones.

I’ll leave messages in your blood.

Pain waits.

Pain waits.

Pain waits.

For the pills to stop.

For the fog to lift.

For the truth you have to find

for yourself first.

Pain is patient.

It watches you swallow

and swallow

and swallow.

It watches you build soft little coffins

out of denial.

Pain waits.

The pain I refused to feel

dug in its heels.

And so did I.

I stopped screaming

like a woman on fire.

I learned a quieter trick.

I became a shell.

A bed.

A lie.

A woman hovering

between living and leaving.

A woman

refusing to live

and refusing

to die.