I meet pain with pain
reveling in how my sharp tongue
slices through conversation,
cutting it short.
Snapping out words
like a rubber band,
hearing them bounce back
harshly in my ears.
But it is only the
echo of pain,
just a dip in the water
compared to the ocean
sized hole in my soul.
So I fight and I claw
to the surface,
looking for an escape,
the anger an excuse.
Because the pain keeps
the fear at bay –
a much scarier monster,
cousin to grief.
Fear of the unknown,
fear of trying again,
of the deep hole,
and perhaps what it could mean
to let go.
At one point the gnawing
pain will stop
and, in its place,
peace.