Pain

Long. Very. Merely describing how pain can have so many varying torturous shades, and though sadly unavoidable, we should at least learn from them, and, hopefully, appreciate the moments of peace more fully...

A throb travels through your body like beating drums
across a wilderness of nakedness and isolated expanse.

Beginning at a single, isolated point, it weaves
and tunnels a path through the various sensitive
channels of your nerves; nearly snapping the fraying string
that balances your fragility in a comatose trance.

Sharp and focused, it never blurs; snagging the threads
that unravel your sanity, and it will not let go.

Your every fiber quivers at pain's paralyzingly precise
touch, as it fingers a way across a canvas of
vividly painted expressions...the seeds of pain sown,
and from the fertile ground of your countenance they grow.

The face of endurance writhes and contorts with each brushing
stroke of art arraying painful shades never known to exist.

Reds burning like a fire flickering...sparks flaming,
traveling, racing from hair to hair; skipping across
the raised bumps of your tensed and tortured skin -
possessing a persuasion of strength none can resist.

Even nature seldom reveals such a constant hand and
even she cannot produce a so humanly sadistic variety.

Blues sending icy blasts rippling like waves through
your veins; chilling into rivers and lakes of frigid solidity...
your life blood tickled with a breath so cool that it
stills into pools like skating rinks glided and chinked by society.

Greens rustling ever so faintly, yet determinedly; like blades
of dew-dropped grass trembling at a whispering, wordless wind.

Blackness so ominous that even the night succumbs;
shuddering, night willingly withdrawing into the sun with fear.
Only the world's transgressors remain unabashed -
even pain is not darker than the evil we've sinned.

Grays tossed by the fury of God's fingers stirring
the steely ocean's brewing broth atop His stove of Earth.

And a whiteness shining brightly, even stunning
the stars...who burn out in blushing inferiority,
and snow is so darkly humiliated into nonexistence
that is melts, drip drips away, exposing the dirt.

Bruises, plum discolorations, even grape juice spilt
disappear in the presence of pain's penetrating purple.

Pain hurts...it spreads before the eyes like an expanding
light; bright - yet so faint. Starting as merely weakly
captivating - lacking a holding beauty - for it flickers.
But the light grows, lingers; as does also pain become painful.

Pain's browns are the dirtiest, its pinks the hottest,
greens most neon, and oranges insanely retro.

Captivate? More likely: capture, imprison, entrap, or overpower.
It grips you with a grasp so firmly held that, where you
would otherwise struggle - rebel with a vengeance - pain disables
you beyond even considering methods to break the aforementioned hold.

Patience is the only weapon - patience and time...
awaiting a lull in pain's infliction of affliction.

Be eternally grateful when peace and recovery
can and are, once again, settled and nestled
into the warmth of your recuperated and,
hopefully, resilient and lively affections.

You hope that pain may grow weary of its plaything and
leave you stranded, though convulsing from the after-effects.

Gazing upon the pull of the past, observe...
learn from the stillness of others...possibly also
your own self-inflicted treachery; a product of
one's hasty fight or flight -  be wise and reflect.

Author's Note

And she was long winded...I know, i know...but the thought and description caught me, and I forgot people other than me would be reading as I poured out my thoughts.