Pounding Pain
Pounding
Can almost compose
To the beat dropping
Inside of my skull
If the pain wasn’t so great
I would be composing
More music than words
Pounding
It puts me off kilter
I can think of nothing else
This rhythmic tattoo beating
Its way into my psyche
Etching its way into memory
Bathing me in pain
Pounding
It’s almost transformative
Time passes and the
Longer this goes on
The more I wonder how much
Me will be left when
It goes away
9-23-11
form: free (sorta)
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