A Waltz With Pain

Pain is a strange thing. Each one of us dances with it differently. It touches everyone’s hand the same way, Yet some feel it breeze past and others are left with fractured fingers. I have experienced many dealings with pain I’m often fearful I’ve gone numb to it. Whilst my brother cries over a dripping nose, my body is wrapped in scars, my spine embraces metal. These joints, these muscles are so saturated with pain. I feel they will simply flee with the passing wind. Dust. Only the dust remains. Dust. Along with agony.