Only Pain
'It's only pain,'
'It's only pain,'
she says, appearing
to shrug,
almost hiding
her rigid back,
her drawn white face,
tight mouth.
The truth is,
she is afraid
of what is worse
than this.
She fears
it comes soon:
her death.
And that dying
will lacerate her
with pain even more
shriekingly extreme.
She's practising
how to hold
upright back, calm face
against collapse,
against the screams
she won't allow
being heard.
(A fictional character, compounded of various people observed over the years.)
Sharing this poem at Poets United's Poetry Pantry #435
Sharing this poem at Poets United's Poetry Pantry #435
