Posted in Creative Writing

Pain

A quiet fiend –
Silent as midnight in the small town
where he first caught hold of you.
You screamed
as his weight bore down
on your chest.
His work
relentless
needles into skin,
sensations akin
to the hands of a Titan
crushing your skull
or the claws of a lion
twisting at your gut
‘til the fear made you numb.

Pride gained,
he became less discreet.
White coats became privy
to his game,
but to not be beat
he found a new victim,
he learnt silence is golden

And came for me-
Silent as a forest
in the dead of winter,
and snatched the air from my lungs
so I could not protest,
Took my filter away
So I could not process
this eternal night.

No sign of my plight
could plead my case.
With no traceable violence
I endured my pain in silence.

[This is a repost from my previous blog with a few minor changes]

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