About the Pain....

I wish to say it

about the pain

because that is all                                           

I am made of.

They were like the Imp's                                   
shattered looking glass
which made all good things
appear evil.

I have traveled to places                                      

they can't imagine
to plead for its excision
but there it remains
knifing deeper
into who I am -
  
        - who I was -
                                               




I wish to pull the words

from these unspoken glances
we exchange.
I wish to say, "Say it!"
but can't expect the stillborn
to give up their wisdom.

                                                 

                                           Can you hear it?                                         
                                           Can you breathe it?  



It hurts it hurts it hurts!
But there are no words
no metaphors
for what is unrecognized
and inarticulate.



                                          Still, I wish to say it
                                          about the pain
                                          for its own sake
                                          to give it power
                                          because sometimes pain
                                          is a beautiful thing
                                          when it's all you've got.