What size is your pain, what strength on a scale of one to ten,
what colour is it, what song does it sing?
My pain is grey. Dull like layers of fog that settle
over the tors of bog-lands. It is a gloom
that spreads and seeps through bone.
The song it sings haunts the bleak muirs.
It leaks out of mean homes that once bred warriors
whose callous shadows weigh down
the shoulders of men taught to bear grief
with a straight back and a grimace.
Mine is a scarlet poker that sears
nerve, spine, brain and flesh.
It skewers each act and thought
with thrusts so deep
that each breath is a burst of fire.
It has trapped me here on a narrow cot
of catheters, drips, timid shots of morphine.
I listen to the faint pulsings of machines
and pray to no god but mercy, for silence.
Pain Management 1 & 2
1 February 2014