Ann-Marie Spittle

THIS PAIN

I cannot stand this pain
That eats into the heart of me
Resides and opens places I thought hidden
Old resentments surface
Like an old log from the bottom of a pond
Covered in the death of water

I ache
How can a physical thing
Cause so much anguish to the soul
Dig into the heart of me
Like a surgeon digging out a bullet
I thought mine had given up
But he was persistent
And had to have one more dig
Just to make sure

I curl into a ball
And allow despair to hold me
While I let the world float over my anguish
Will it ever end?
Or is this it?
Has it come to stay with no relief?

The onlookers try to rally me
And are slashed at by the wounded bear
Escaping from the confines of its lair
“Leave me be” I hear me roar
I do not want your laughter
Or your understanding
Just peace
They limp away wounded

Peace from this all enveloping pain
I cry
The pain that hints at what might be
But never quite makes it
Creeping about my body
But never fulfilling its threats

Then it changes tactics
Smashes my foot with an unseen hand
And leaves me limping back home
Will I ever beat this?
The magic discs given me
By the local witchdoctor
Merely hide the truth
That my body is rebelling
And my youth is leaving me
To the prison of old age
Caused by my own exuberance
But there is an up side

Is there, you ask?
For if I had not lived
I would not know
And not knowing would be hell itself
When it finally found me
In the darkness of my days