Pain ripples through me,
Like an electric current
Beneath my skin.

(Not the kind of pain
That leaves me sobbing,
Unable to breathe
Or to choke out words.

But the kind
That doubles me over,
Under its sheer weight,
Like the world was just placed
On my back.)

This pain blooms inside of me,
Like the blue of a bruise—
But will not fade into yellow,
And then into nothing as most do.

This pain eats at me,
Devours my very soul.
This pain corrodes me
Until I am left hollow inside,
With no room to feel.