Pain is sticky and heavy to swallow,
It is a vicious leech that has set camp in your soul.
Pain is transparent at its purest form.
No one can see it and that is why it can be
easily mistaken for content,
but for the trained eye it is found in the corners of
your mouth.
Pain is silent, the hiss of a snake, a whisper in the wind.
Pain is desperate, it seeks company,
it is a greedy little devil.
Pain is there to stay; it is our companion,
it is bearable and an effective fuel for art.
Pain is the daily bread, occasionally our only food,
but mostly just a small presence.
Pain is a monster that gets bigger with neglect,
and it shrinks with love.
Live out of pure pain is torture but the right mixture
of pain and happiness creates a sweet, sweet agony that
can create a deadly addiction.
It is an unwelcome counterbalance,
a reminder of our mortality,
a friend,
a source of inspiration
a never-ending battle,
one of the few certainties
we have in life.
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