Pain sleeps,
an inch below the scar,
wrapped in a clot,
on a nerve serving the heart.

But on somedays…
memories rush,
wearing nostalgia,
pain changes sides,
tearing the day,
into series of dark phases,
nerve is trampled,
clot bloats,
and heart pounds heavy.

A desperate attempt follows,
palms holding up,
against forehead,
as if gating the mind,
from the escape.

Finally a cry erupts,
with silent tears,
to ease off the tremors,
followed by a hope,
that pain doesn’t wake up.

4 thoughts on “Pain

      1. Aah…..that’s nice to hear…
        I wasnt sure if it was fiction or reality so I let my comment be vague ….didnt want to overstep any boundary🙃🤔
        But it’s a very beautiful poem….good skills there🌻🎀

        Liked by 1 person

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