-PAIN-

My scars aren’t a straight story. Perhaps jagged around the edges.

Four fluorescent moons staring into the darkness of me. Seems as if it’s just beginning.

Another surgery. Another rebuilding. They open me more than plenty.

Bones diseased with deficiencies.

My house that won’t stay standing, hammer metal into bone, thread stitches through skin, like new wiring in old walls.

PAIN, always is settled in. Always calling out every forward move made. Loud, Obnoxious, Controlling. This familiar agitation, a shadow walking beside me.

My healing is quieter, a shy guest that moves in silence. This sacred ritual. It shows up as one more step that doesn’t steal my breath.

They say “normal life” like it’s a cheap thing you can pull off a shelf. Mine is paid for in scars and screws,and missing teeth.

Multiple days purchased staring at ceiling tiles, learning the geography of endurance, and deterministic patience. Whispers of nurses, beeping machines.

I stand without trembling, but the way my mind remembers the breaking and mending is never ending.

More to go, who knows. Sit in silence. Praying for an peaceful road.

——— END