Perennial

My pain is radiant.

An endless sunset, brilliant

and blinding, keeping me

on the edge of darkness.

My pain is a seedling.

Perennial, planted with care and thriving.

Climbing my spine, it blooms inside my skull,

leaving my brain full of brambles.

My pain is a deep-sea monster

with strong and abundant arms

that coil tightly about my neck,

threatening to pull me to the depths.

________________

My pain (according to my mother)

is a figment of my imagination,

mysterious and suspect,

but nothing else at all.

________________

I am tired.

I am young and I am tired

and I am afraid that this is all I am:

home to broken parts and

missing vital pieces.

My pain grows as I grow.

Soon, it will surpass me.

Maybe then, I'll rest.