Member-only story
Abstract Pain
A Poem
Nov 16, 2020
Agony doesn’t swirl: it bleeds in
through all your pores
your skin, the supposed first line of defense
swallowing you into the feeling
The vacant thought
lets the room to the same customer
again and again
but somehow without paying
Trees thrash around outside
but that doesn’t touch you
in your indoor armor
You never tried to be gentle
The bed rises to the facial
collapse
spreads you thin through the coals
And now your arms
are hugging you for the feeblest
sense of touch
J.D. Harms 2020
