Some days the pain is physical.

Sitting behind my eyes,

burying into the base of my skull.

Lights swirl around.

Colors spring to life,

chasing each other.

My pulse flutters madly.

Stomach growls in hunger.

Acid burning at the back of my throat.

These days when the pain is physical,

emotion is drained.

Feelings are voided.

Everything is muddled,

as if I’m underwater.

Barely able to hear.

The faster things spin around me,

the stiller I become.

Taking each blow as it’s dealt.

I find these days the most tolerable

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