Pain

harsh ice pick jabs

cold and, at the same time,

white-hot needle pricks

thousands of them

simultaneously

penetrating deeper, ever deeper

into the heart,

into the throbbing mass

of convulsions

that is Life

rending, tearing, breaking

yet unrelenting

powerless in its strength

we surrender,

giving our Life’s blood

to the beast that is Pain.

Am I in Trouble?

the niggling, torturous knots of heat

ball themselves up in my gut,

sending waves of nausea rollicking up my body –

the sticky, tangled cotton fluff

taking up sudden residence in my mind,

clouding my vision, blocking my thought –

and I wonder

will I be able to maintain my cool?

will those around me see through my façade?

my eyes, already heavy with salty tears

waiting, ever waiting to spill over –

my chest, burdened with the pressure of fear,

somehow an iron fist squeezing,

squeezing, ever squeezing my lungs to dust

and I wonder

why?

no answer…

yet I cannot help myself.

My ID Picture

false smile

a wolf in sheep’s clothing

is it a sign of happiness? yes?

or are my teeth bared

are my lips curled

angry as a bitch in heat,

ready to spring and burst the jugular

of anyone foolish enough to speak?

look into my eyes

and be wise

look into my eyes

and be afraid

be petrified with fear

of what lies beneath

my false smile

Eyes

a romantic notion, surely,

and a foolish one, certainly,

but I have always believed them

the stained-glass windows of the soul