Pain in Precision

Molten steel thrust hot in my heart. Like an elevator shaft with no bottom. Numb, inferno, fiery pain crushes my chest like a welder’s arc. No place to put my tears falling on nothingness. Pain is precise. It tears at history, dredging up repeated stories – overthinking until dawn. Unanswered questions bring controversy and blockage.  Breath in the cracked ancient trees take no notice of dark eyes and bleak face. Tragedy and lessons begin with a harsh teacher. Softness and lovingkindness cradles in the realm of the surreal. Will hope ever erase the gnawing gash deep in my sunken belly. Loving into the pain. Forgiving into the pain. Releasing into the pain. How I have loved you.

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